Two Sides
by Nutjob10
Summary: Voldemort and Harry Potter had similar childhoods. Voldemort and Harry are polar opposites. What if they're not? What if the same circumstances that turned Voldemort down the path of evil occur in Harry's life?The story is set in a world where Harry realizes his true potential as the son of the brightest witch of her age and a wizard epitomizing the best of purebloods. With a twist
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: ** I've been trawling through fanfics for a really, really long time now. This is the first time I've ever attempted one, though. I Hope you'll be patient with me as far as the story goes. Two Sides is sort of a flagship for me and I've put in a lot of ideas and themes that I've personally always wanted to read in a fanfic. Although I'm doing this because I love to write, I'm not nearly arrogant enough to write for no audience and simply for the sake of myself. Stories are meant to be read and my continuing this fic would depend entirely on the response it receives. That being said, this will eventually turn into a Harry/Hermione. Not because I like it but because that's what would best suit this particular storyline.

P.S. Harry doesn't become Voldemort- dark, so don't worry.

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

A screech woke the Dursley household early Monday morning. Petunia Dursley, a thin, bony woman with a long face reminiscent of a horse, quickly stifled her scream as she recognized the squirming bundle on her front doorstep, her hands flying to her mouth. It had been a while since she had seen those green eyes and that absurd shock of black her sister's husband insisted was hair. In fact, it had been a while since she had even thought of them. With a quick, furtive look around to check if any of her neighbours had noticed, Petunia Dursley shot out an arm and grabbed her nephew, slamming the door shut.

Shaking fingers flew quickly around the now wide awake bundle looking for a note, a letter, anything as Petunia desperately tried to calm her thundering heart. Feeling something coarse and heavy, she pulled out a letter from the folds of the blanket. With trembling hands she unfolded the heavy, odd textured paper and began to read.

"VERNON!"

There was the sound of heavy steps and shortly, a rather large man with a moustache that made him look like a walrus appeared. He clutched his dressing gown around him with one hand while the other rubbed his eye.

"What is it, Petunia? Mrs Bigby's cat get to the milk again?"

The portly man stopped short at the sight that greeted him.

"What the ruddy hell is that?"

"They're dead, Vernon. This is theirs."

The baby gurgled happily.

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

"Up! Get up, boy!" a sharp voice pierced the calm morning air through the slit in the cupboard door. "I will not have Diddums wait for his breakfast because you were too lazy to get out of bed in time. Up, boy, NOW!"

Inside the cupboard in question, a small boy with bright green eyes and scruffy jet black hair sat up sleepily, pushing a pair of worn out round glasses to his face. At the loud rapping proceeding a lack of response at his bedroom door Harry Potter mumbled incoherently before raising his voice.

"I'll get started at once, Aunt Petunia."

The rapping ceased and Harry quickly extricated himself from his sheets and rushed outside. As quickly as possible, he made his way to the kitchen and slipped inside praying he would be alone. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was alone, as evidenced by the severe lack of raised voices at his arrival. Within minutes, the pan was spitting and a delicious smell of frying bacon and hot coffee permeated the rather large Dursley household.

Just as he was done and had begun flipping the bacon onto plates, Vernon Dursley wandered in with the day's papers under an arm. Ignoring Harry, he lowered himself into a chair with a grunt before tucking in. Soon after, Dudley 'Diddums' Dursley burst in and his eyes lit up when he saw the food. Harry stood away to the side and stared out of the window. This was a common occurrence at the Dursley's. So common, in fact, that Harry almost missed what Uncle Vernon was saying for it being so far off from the daily routine. That and the fact that Uncle Vernon was speaking in what might have passed for an outdoor voice instead of the usual yell when he was addressing Harry.

"..and Mrs. Figg will have to rest up for a month. You better behave, boy, or it will be the cupboard and no food for a week!"

Startled, Harry said the first thing that came to his mind, "Huh?" Uncle Vernon's eyes narrowed dangerously. Dudley began sniggering at the other end of the table. He had seen this happen countless times but it never lost its charm. Although he was much too scared to blatantly bully the freak, not after the first few times, he enjoyed his father putting Harry in what he deemed 'his rightful place'. The freak never pulled any of his rubbish around his father.

When his father's yells were well on their way, Dudley allowed his thoughts to drift and try as he might to avoid a particularly nasty bunch of them, his thought steering set up seemed decidedly uncooperative today

_Eight year old Dudley was in the garden playing with his brand new toy car that his Aunt Marge had gifted him. A too small Harry was watching him from afar, his eyes staring at the shiny red car longingly. Dudley could see him from the corner of his eye and it pleased him that the plan was working so far. _

_After a while when Harry still hadn't moved, Dudley began to get frustrated. What good was his trying to bait Harry if the boy just sat there? Quickly coming to a decision, Dudley jumped up and moved to where Harry was now watching with a wary look in his green eyes. By the time he reached, Harry hadn't moved although he seemed poised to take flight at the slightest hint of a threat._

_Idly leaning against the fence, Dudley looked down and was once again reminded just how small his cousin really was. It made him that much larger and that made him feel good. "I saw you looking. If you want to play you have to ask me ", said Dudley._

_Harry looked into his eyes and Dudley felt a mild discomfort but he brushed it off easily. Slowly, almost as if sure it was a trap, Harry asked him, "Could I play with the car for some time, please?" Dudley grinned and held out the car. "Here you go. Make sure you don't break it." _

_Eyes never leaving the massive blob that was his cousin, Harry reached for the car and blinked when Dudley suddenly caught hold of his arm. Harry's mouth turned down at the corners, he was already fighting tears and that just spurred Dudley on. Dudley grinned and began twisting Harry's arm deliberately. Harry gasped at the pain and tears leaked out while he looked fearfully at his cousin. _

_And suddenly, Dudley released him and with a jerk had smashed his new car into the fence. Smirking at Harry he said, "I wanted a blue car. Now Mummy and Daddy will HAVE to buy me a blue one! And all this is your fault! Look what you did to my car! I'll tell Daddy on you and he'll set you right!"_

_Harry, who had been cowering till now, abruptly stiffened. "No! Uncle Vernon would beat me again. Don't do it Dudley" he said. Dudley laughed and turned around making to march back to the house. A small hand shot out and grabbed his arm. Dudley spun around incensed and with a mighty punch, Harry was lying in the grass wheezing. Dudley advanced on him, his eyes glittering and promising pain._

_Suddenly, Dudley was flung back with such a force that he flew across the garden and fell right into a bed of Aunt Petunia's roses. Groaning, he looked up to see Harry standing there, his face red and mouth trembling. He blinked and just as suddenly, Harry was gone and his place was taken by his mother looking concerned. Dudley did not venture near Harry for almost a year._

Dudley was brought back by the sound of his mother coming in and he realised he'd missed his father shouting at Harry. Feeling slightly disappointed, he shrugged and wolfed down his remaining breakfast before pushing off the table, kissing his mother on the cheek and waving at his father. He walked out and was immediately greeted by the sight of Piers Polkiss, his best mate waiting at the gate.

The day passed uneventfully for Dudley. He and Piers had made for the Polkiss' and spent the morning playing video games. After a quick lunch at their house, the pair decided to watch television for a while and ended up spending the entire afternoon in front of the telly. In the evening they were shooed out by Mrs Polkiss saying they needed to get some fresh air or they'd become sick. Deciding to head toward the park and see if they could find a kid to have fun with, Dudley and Piers set out.

Harry had had a relatively mild day. Apart from the initial yelling he'd received from Uncle Vernon in the morning, the day had worn pleasantly as he completed his various household chores. In the evening, Aunt Petunia had told him to clear out of the house while she picked up the gifts and goodies for Dudley's birthday party the next day. Enjoying the relative freedom, Harry walked without a thought to where he was headed and found himself in the park.

No one was about this early on a hot summer day but Harry didn't mind. He liked the quiet. Walking over to a swing, he sat on it and used his feet to push himself. He just sat there with eyes half closed, facing the sun and one foot lazily swinging over the seat enjoying the warmth. Dudley and Piers rounded the corner to the park and saw a boy on a swing in the distance.

Feelings of unease and a sense of foreboding filled Dudley as they edged closer to the boy on the swing trying to remain unseen until they were close enough. Moving closer, he suddenly recognised the hair and his old clothes. Putting his hand out, he caught Piers and shook his head. Piers gave an inquiring look but followed when Dudley made his way back.

"It was my cousin" said Dudley by way of explanation and Piers stood shocked. That was close. Without another word, they almost ran and ended up at the nearest ice cream shop. Eating a triple chocolate sundae, Dudley shuddered as he remembered the last time him and Piers had rounded on Harry.

_It was term time and Dudley and the scrawny cousin of his attended the same school; Stonewall High. During lunch, Dudley and his gang made it a point to torment the kids and steal all the lunch they could get their hands on. Piers had been his best friend right from the start. They were too alike not to have been. Both hulking, huge boys below average academically and nearly useless on the field. They even lived close to each other and that clinched it. Harry, Dudley and his gang were in the same class and Harry was, to put it simply, brilliant. He was intelligent, polite and quiet and every teacher's favourite._

_Dudley, by this time had learnt enough to leave Harry alone. A number of small inexplicable events had convinced him that Harry Hunting was really not worth what Harry would do to him later. Piers, on the other hand, had no such compunctions and was constantly surprised and irritated at being held back from targeting Harry for a bit of fun._

_In Piers' opinion, Harry was small, the teacher's pet and small. That fit his plaything criteria perfectly. He was aghast when Dudley had muttered a quiet "Leave him alone" when he'd pointed out the skinny midget in glasses to him one afternoon. As is human nature, being denied the chance to mess with the kid that made the others look bad, Piers was all the more determined to take upon himself cornering Harry secretly after attempting on many occasions to convince Dudley to join him. _

_One afternoon when Dudley was engrossed in a bit of homework (his teacher had assured him she would take him on a tour to the principal's office if he failed to hand it in again), Piers found his chance. Mumbling something about going to the loo, he made his way around the school grounds, his eyes flitting constantly in the search of black hair and glasses. Spotting Harry under a largish window set in a secluded side of the building, Piers grinned and strutted over. _

_Dudley, in a remarkable show of quick thinking, realised just what Piers was up to when he headed the wrong direction once out of the door. He quickly got up to follow and bumped the table causing his books to fall over. Cursing, he picked them up and hurried after the disappearing figure of Piers. Weaving between the older students and pushing the smaller, he noticed Piers vanish around a side of the building and gave chase._

_When he rounded the side, fear gripped him. It was empty. Looking around, a sudden movement in one of the open store rooms caught his attention and he waddled over as fast as his fat legs would allow. Pushing past the door with the broken lock, Dudley peeked inside promptly screamed. He and Piers were still screaming when the school attendant came to find them a half hour later. The school nurse put it down to dark places and a boy's hyperactive imagination. The attendant did not mention the quiet, polite boy who was everyone's favourite walking out quietly the other end._

Shaking, Dudley decided to order another ice when he realised that the freak had managed to make him miss another thing he loved; eating ice cream that day. Oh well, it wasn't like he could do anything about it, he shrugged. When the two were finished, they wandered around the neighbourhood aimlessly, taking pleasure in the frightened young faces peeping from the windows and the kids on the block hurriedly rushing inside as they drew closer.

Finally, darkness set in as the sun finished painting the sky in a riot of colours and retired for the night. Dudley glanced up, noting the late hour and decide to head back. Polkiss' was closer and he bade goodbye before turning towards his home. Dudley kicked a stone along the road and a rather hard kick forced the stone to skitter a long way and come to a stop by the feet of a most strange figure. It was tall; half covered by the shadows and seemed to be wearing a very fluid, loose fitting overcoat of some sort, one that went down all the way to his feet.

The figure seemed to have been watching his house before the stone caused it to turn slowly. Dudley stopped, frightened for some reason. The figure seemed to consider him for a moment before reaching within the folds of his overcoat and drawing a stick. It raised the stick and with a final look toward the fat little boy, turned and vanished with a CRACK!

Dudley uttered a frightened little squeak and ran up the drive to his house, not stopping once inside and all the way to the bedroom where he locked the door and crawled beneath his bed. Harry. This was all his fault somehow. He must have seen Dudley and Piers stalking up to him in the park earlier in the day and was now punishing him. He stayed there until he heard his mother shout that dinner was ready. Feeling distinctly better after lying there for over an hour, he crawled out and rushed downstairs.

Pushing open the kitchen door, the first sight that greeted him was of the freak standing to a side, staring out of the window as was his wont during any meal. He hesitated, but seeing that Harry hadn't turned or shown the slightest signs of acknowledging him, he slowly made his way to the table where his parents were already started. Sitting down, he began to eat happily, all thoughts of the day's encounter forgotten as he tried to stuff third helpings of the roast down and still leave room for a bit of that marvellous cheese cake he had seen on the counter.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Not much happens in this chapter, really. It's more of a subtle build up of Harry's personality than actually carrying the story forward. I'm sorry if you were hoping for something more but I kind of felt this was necessary.

* * *

**CHAPTER 2**

Harry Potter sat up in bed. He could have sworn he had just fallen asleep. Grumbling, he called through the door, "I'll get started at once, Aunt Petunia" Reaching for his glasses he was just about to shove them on his face when a thought struck him. Today was Dudley's birthday. He almost fell back into bed and lay there. Today's breakfast would need to contain all of Dudley's favourites. And that was saying something. The smallish elephant that was his cousin liked nearly everything. Ever since he'd realised Harry would be the one having to cook, he'd decided that he literally liked everything.

Sighing, Harry made his way to the kitchen with a resigned air. As he passed the living room, he heard Aunt Petunia on the phone.

"Oh dear, is there absolutely no way you could take him? We were relying on you, you know? Well, if you're sure. Make sure you rest it well then. Yes, goodbye."

Aunt Petunia turned and Harry noticed a small frown on her face. Not wishing to be caught, he hurried to the kitchen and began the first of many delicious smelling dishes. Uncle Vernon made his usual appearance and seemed to be in a good mood. He even nodded at Harry as he opened his newspaper and disappeared behind it. As the coffee was percolating, Harry finally got the time to ponder on Aunt Petunia's conversation. There was no doubt it was about him. 'The Boy' was an epithet seldom used in that tone for anyone else.

The most obvious conclusion was that Mrs Figg, one of their neighbours who had him over whenever the Dursleys planned an outing was somehow incapable of looking after Harry. Considering the stories the Dursleys spread about him around the neighbourhood, he doubted anyone else would have been willing to take him. It was a double-edged sword for the Dursleys, telling their acquaintances and friends that Harry was mentally unsound and prone to violence. On the one hand, it ensured that the boy did not spend all his time outdoors playing with friends and focussed on his chores while on the other, no one was willing to touch him anymore.

This conclusion, however, happened to mean that Harry would have to go with the Dursleys on their outing that day. That was a dangerous thought. Before it could fill him with hope which would, no doubt, end in disappointment, he ruthlessly quashed it, instead focussing on the breakfast. The door to the kitchen opened and Dudley entered looking pleased. His father glanced up and lowered the paper.

"Happy birthday, son! Ready for the big day?"

Dudley grinned as he flung himself into a seat. "Thanks, Daddy! Say, how many are they?" Uncle Vernon followed Dudley's gaze and chuckled.

"Thirty nine, son"

"Really? That's two more than last year!" Dudley was happy. The day seemed to have begun on the right note. He began to munch absently on the hot waffles as he thought about the day his parents had lined up for him. It was almost a tradition with the Dursleys that on Dudley's birthday, the family, sans Harry of course, would spend the day at the zoo, have a quiet dinner at a posh restaurant before heading back home. Recently, they had taken to inviting a few of Dudley's friends and their mothers along as well. The Polkiss family and the Coles were accompanying the Dursleys this time.

Finishing his breakfast, Dudley rushed to the over laden table groaning under the weight of all those presents. He eagerly reached for the largest parcel he could see and began ripping the paper off. Just then, Aunt Petunia walked in looking agitated.

"Vernon, we have a problem. Mrs Figg seems to have broken her leg and is confined to her bed. She won't be able to take the boy," she said jerking her head toward Harry at the end. Harry's ears pricked up. A small amount of hope flared in his chest. Uncle Vernon looked up, all traces of good humour vanished.

"Is there anyone else…."

Was as far as Uncle Vernon got before Aunt Petunia cut across impatiently.

"No, I've already checked, dear. You know how it is. The Coles would have been the only ones to take him and that because we babysat their terror occasionally. Now that they're coming along with us, that isn't very feasible."

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth, trying hard to think of a solution.

"It's no use, Vernon. We'll just have to ask the Polkiss and Coles to take Diddums along. We can always say the boy was giving trouble."

Harry, who had been following the conversation wide-eyed, not believing his luck, saw his chances beginning to slim. He decided to settle and jumped in. "Please, Aunt Petunia, I could always stay here at home. I promise not to get into trouble and to do all my chores before you're back. " Both, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon whirled to look at him. Uncle Vernon was the first to explode.

"What, and come home to a smouldering heap of ruins? I think not, boy!"

Aunt Petunia, however, bit her lip, looking thoughtful. She did so want to be a part of Dudley's birthday celebration and the boy really was well behaved for all the rubbish coursing through his veins. Also, there wasn't any real danger, the boy knew his way around a stove and wouldn't play around with it, she was sure of that. Besides, they could always lock him in his bedroom.

"Actually, Vernon, I think that might work. We could lock him in his cupboard. He wouldn't be able to get up to any mischief there."

Harry could see Uncle Vernon considering it. He held his breath. He didn't mind being locked in, he had been able to unlock the door easily since he was five and needed to use the loo at night. He didn't dare bang on the door and wake someone up for fear of a beating and a brief time was spent entertaining the thought of just lying back down before being discarded almost immediately. They would have a fit if they saw the soiled sheets. As he had stood there silently in front of the small door in the dark room, the tiny little boy began to get desperate. Suddenly, when he felt he absolutely could not hold it any longer, a thrum of something had coursed through him and the cupboard door had swung open.

On returning, Harry had crawled under the covers and tried to remember the feeling. The strange thrum and the odd sensation after. It wasn't bad, just odd. He spent a long time contemplating it. Coming to no satisfactory conclusion, he simply left it and went to sleep. The next time Harry was need of a night time visit, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling he remembered, letting the odd sensation course through him. Suddenly, he felt the thrum and opening his eyes, saw that the door had opened silently.

Finally, Uncle Vernon appeared to have made a decision "Alright, that's what we'll do."

Dudley, who was standing frozen, the wrapping paper still in his hands, let out a sigh of relief. He was not about to contribute in any way to the horror unfolding in the kitchen for fear of upsetting his cousin by saying the wrong thing and had kept his mouth firmly shut for the entire duration. However, there was no denying that Dudley wanted his parents to be there on his birthday along with his friends and was glad to see that it was all going to be fine.

Harry was thrilled. He would have been happier if he was going but he didn't mind settling. Just as they had settled back into their individual breakfast routines, Uncle Vernon was struck by a sudden thought. "But Petunia, the exterminator was to have come today! Mrs Bigby had agreed to come in and oversee the man weeks ago!"

Harry's heart sank. Aunt Petunia, however, had had enough. She had made up her mind to be there on her Diddums birthday after briefly considering skipping it this year and couldn't bear to revert. She said, "Then I'm afraid he'll just have to come with us, Vernon. There really is no other way." Dudley slumped. The only thing dampening his spirit till now was his parents not attending his birthday celebration. Harry attending was something he hadn't even considered.

Uncle Vernon briefly thought of going red but decided on a rather horrible shade of purple halfway. Taking the boy along was definitely not what he had planned. He fumed silently for a couple of moments before letting out a yell, "You had better behave yourself, boy! I will not stand any of your nonsense, especially not _that_ kind!"

"Yes, sir" Harry said quietly. He knew perfectly well what _that_ meant. When he was a little younger, his imagination was rampant and his thought to speech filter non-existent. He had inadvertently let slip some of his greater ideas and dreams. Some involved flying motorbikes, some needed dragons and still some others required levitating things in mid-air. Uncle Vernon had ignored the first occurrence. At the second and third, he had proceeded to give Harry a sound thrashing to 'stamp out all this dangerous nonsense' and ensure he grew up a sensible kid who did not spend all his time day dreaming when he was supposed to be doing his chores.

Nobody felt like continuing their breakfast and as they passed their abandoned plates to Harry, he stood there unable to help a small smile creeping up his face. Dudley, the last to hand over his plate (he couldn't resist a few more quick mouthfuls) saw the smile and hurried out of the kitchen.

* * *

The back seat of the car was a tight fit for the four young boys. Three of them being too large to squeeze into a single backseat comfortably anyway, the addition of the fourth, no matter how small, was an enormous strain. Especially when Dudley seemed to be trying to leave at least a two inch gap between him and his cousin. The Coles and Pokliss were riding in the Coles' car and would meet them directly at the zoo.

Harry was quiet the entire trip, staring out the window, watching the different scenes pass by with great fascination. He was seldom allowed out and outings like these were unheard of. He was excited as well although sensitive enough to pick on the fact that his Uncle and Aunt were quite tense and that he would do better to stay out of their way.

The car finally stopped and Dudley was in a sudden hurry to get out almost pushing Wayne as he tried to climb out the back seat as quickly as possible. Harry opened the door to his right and was about to step out when he found himself face to face with Uncle Vernon. The man's face was about an inch from his own and Harry shrunk back in. "Remember, boy. Behave." Harry nodded mutely and stepped out as Uncle Vernon went around the car and after the group.

The zoo wasn't that bad, Harry thought idly as he watched a couple of baboons that reminded him strongly of his cousin and his merry band of followers. He wished he had brought a book along so that he could have excused himself and sat on a bench away from the constant glares of Uncle Vernon who seemed to have taken it upon himself to ensure Harry didn't do anything untoward. Harry liked to read. Books were the one place he could escape to when life at the Dursleys became unbearable.

Sighing, he resumed watching the various animals as their rather noisy group passed different enclosures until they stopped outside the Reptile House. Dudley and Wayne were nearly hopping with excitement while Piers, who wasn't particularly fond of the creepy crawlies, tried to pretend he was just as excited. Rushing inside, the three quickly found the largest snake on display and stood with their faces pressed against the glass.

They were disappointed. The Boa Constrictor was enormous alright. It looked like it could easily have been able to wrap itself around any one of them and cover them from head to toe. What it didn't look like was rousing from its slumber anytime soon. Wayne decided to move things along and rapped sharply on the glass. The snake stirred. Delighted, Dudley began rapping on the glass as well. The staccato the two beat on the thick glass was beginning to annoy Harry. He could only imagine how the snake must feel. He was standing quite close to the head of the snake.

As the rapping continued, the snake stirred along its length, uncoiling and coiling and suddenly, shot out to strike, its mouth wide open, hissing at the now frightened kids. The huge head hit the viewing glass and the glass shook under the impact. Dudley screamed and leapt back while Wayne just stood there his arms raised above his head, shaking. Piers had wet himself. The snake, still agitated, continued to strike at the glass as though hoping to break it and get to the three in front of it.

Mr Cole pulled the kids away from the enclosure of the furiously hissing snake and took them out to get an ice cream. Harry was left rooted to the same spot as he watched the thrashing snake. He stared at the snake wondering if it was a mistake. Maybe he was dreaming, after all he _was _at the zoo on Dudley's birthday. A perfectly sensible assumption. He just couldn't think of how else _he could understand the snake_! Harry pinched himself.

"I'm not dreaming!" he whispered. The snake suddenly stopped its thrashing and swivelled to stare at him. It cocked its head a little to the side as it continued to stare, its tongue flicking in and out. Finally, it said, "No, of course you aren't. Don't be daft, child." Harry forgot about being afraid, his curiosity piqued.

It was there that Uncle Vernon found Harry, an hour later. Dudley and his friends had recovered after three ice creams each and a round of milkshakes They had decided to call it a day and head to the restaurant for an early dinner when they realised Harry was missing. Uncle Vernon had grudgingly gotten up to look for him. When he saw the boy standing where they'd left him, he was inexplicably pleased. The kid was learning after all. Marching over, he grabbed Harrys arm and pulled him out.

The dinner was rather subdued. Everyone was tired after the day's excitement and just wanted the day to be over. Everyone except Harry who had a million things running through his mind. The car ride home was equally quiet and Dudley and his friends dozed off in the back seat. Harry sat quietly as usual, staring out of the window trying to savour the last few moments of his outing as much as he could.

The Dursley family was finally home. As Uncle Vernon tried to wake Dudley (he was well past the carrying in weight), Aunt Petunia went to the door scrabbling around in her purse for her keys. Harry decided he was better off helping carry some of the stuff from the car and was waiting patiently, his arms full, for his aunt to open the door. The front door swung open and Aunt Petunia walked in after a quick glance to see if Harry was bringing everything in. Uncle Vernon followed with a sleepy Dudley who promptly collapsed on the couch much to his chagrin.

Harry slinked off quietly to his cupboard and added 'Talking to snakes' to a list of strange things he was able to do. It was a comprehensive list and he had marked those he could do consciously, those that he had not yet figured out yet and those that seemed just too random to be able to repeat. At the sound of his Uncle yelling for water, he quickly stuffed the folded up piece of paper into the gap between his slanted ceiling and wall before hurrying out.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** It's been pointed out I'm a huge, stalker-level fan of stating the obvious. Therefore, here's the 3rd chapter! I'm afraid I missed stating the too obvious earlier, though. This is a work of fiction, I have no claim to the Harry Potter franchise and I am not earning a dime for my efforts.

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

Weeks had passed since the incident at Dudley's birthday. Dudley had bounced back from the shock and was rather enjoying all the attention his friends showered on him. Especially since Piers had suggested tweaking the sequence of events mostly in order to avoid the shame of wetting himself but also because he was an eleven year old boy.

As Dudley woke up, he stretched, or tried to anyway, while thinking of what he would do that day. Excitement flooded him as he remembered that he would be going shopping for his new school uniform that day. Dudley was going to attend Smelting's; his father's old school while Harry was going to be continuing at Stonewall. Dudley had been ecstatic that Harry and he would not be in the same school.

When Dudley came down to breakfast, he noticed that the kitchen was empty. Well, almost empty. Harry was there, standing off in a corner staring out the window. Dudley wondered what he found so fascinating. He briefly wondered where his parents were but seeing the food on the table, decided to worry about that later. As he began to eat, Harry started and looked around guiltily. Seeing that it was only Dudley there he relaxed somewhat.

Harry just stood there in the corner quietly while he watched his cousin put pigs to shame. His eyes flitted to the door when he heard the raised voices of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. He had no need to wonder what they were arguing about because Uncle Vernon's angry voice floated in as though there was no door.

"I refuse to allow it! I won't I tell you! He'll be coming back waving his arms around and wreaking goodness knows WHAT kind of…."

"And if he _does _attend, he will be out of the house for almost the entire year!" Aunt Petunia finally lost it.

"I don't care what he does when he comes back, he _can't _do anything when he comes back. His mother couldn't either. I say he goes, Vernon."

Uncle Vernon's voice became almost indiscernible after that and Dudley dropped his fork, shocked. This was the first time he had heard his mother yell like that. Harry, on the hand was burning with curiosity. He edged to the kitchen door hesitantly, torn between wanting to hear more about this place they were sending him to and staying out of trouble which would be inevitable if the Dursleys thought he was eavesdropping. Finally, the line about his mother clinched it and he put his hand out to the grab the kitchen door handle when it swung open and he leapt back.

Standing there was Uncle Vernon, who, on seeing Harry narrowed his eyes but pushed past, not saying a word. He could see Aunt Petunia sitting on the edge of an armchair, leaning forward with her head in her hands before the door swung shut again. He considered for a minute and decided it could wait. He walked slowly back to his usual sot and looked out the window. Looked to the spot he had met that really weird stranger, no, that witch the last time.

* * *

Harry's thoughts strayed to that day, almost two years ago as he waited for his Uncle to leave for work before he asked his Aunt. His Aunt was always easier to deal with.

_Harry was nine years old. He had been playing in the garden with one of the many cats Mrs Figg had at her home. It had escaped and found itself in the Dursleys yard where Harry had come upon it. Delighted, he had picked the soft thing up and she had mewed, trying to rub herself on his leg while he sat cross-legged on the grass, his feet bare. _

_Happily engrossed in the cat, Harry hadn't noticed a weirdly dressed woman watching him from across the road. The woman had an unreadable expression on her face as Harry had smiled and chased the cat around the garden under the warm summer sun. Suddenly, she gasped. The cat had grown tired of Harry's antics and tried running up a tree. Harry had merely grinned and flown up to the branch. _

_She watched open mouthed as Harry had hovered there, talking to the cat in a quiet voice when Harry suddenly felt the stare. He turned and the colour drained out of his face. He had nearly fallen out of the air then but had somehow recovered and floated down, the cat in his hands. She had been unable to help herself then. She found herself walking to the very edge of the Dursley property and looking over the fence._

_She found intense green eyes watching her and she flinched a little when she saw how cold they were. She said in a soft voice, "Harry?"_

_Harry's eyes narrowed. He took a step back, still watching the woman's every move. She paused, wondering how to go about it. She didn't want to scare him any further. They two stood there, watching each other as the woman thought it out. It was Harry that broke the silence._

_"Who are you and how do you know my name?"_

_"Who I am is not important. What is important is who _you_ are, or rather _what _you are, I should say."_

_The woman stopped, hoping Harry would be curious enough to stay. Harry simply stood there waiting for her to go on. Seeing him standing there so aloof and wary, stirred something in her. This wasn't protecting him! He wasn't happy or safe! The boy was consciously using magic for Merlin's sake! And seemed to have an absurd amount of control at that. He could get hurt, or worse! Albus Dumbledore and his orders be damned! The witch opened her mouth to speak. She told him all._

What the strange woman had told him, Harry had never repeated to anyone. He had remained silent and mulled things over and over in his young mind until he knew every argument he could possibly make in his sleep. Some of the things she had said had been too fantastic to believe. She had told him about unicorns and dragons, phoenixes and centaurs and a whole host of impossible sounding things. No, how could he believe it to be true? He was nine now! Nearly grown up!

But some of the things she had spoken of had made sense. They were frighteningly real and undeniable. There _had _been times, inexplicable events, strange occurrences and wasn't he able to repeat a lot of those himself now? Wasn't he able to stop Dudley from hurting him? Wasn't he able to elude Piers and his gang? Wasn't he able to ensure those who wished to hurt him run and never return? But it was what she had said towards the end that had convinced Harry. His parents had been just like him, they had loved him with all their hearts and had died for him. They had been part of a world where the Dursleys could never enter. And to Harry, that meant enough to make him convince himself.

Harry was broken out of his reverie by his uncle slamming the kitchen door on his way out. Turning from the window, he found himself facing Aunt Petunia this time. Dudley had sidled off when his Mum had come in with that expression on her face. Harry wasn't too sure he liked it either but he stayed put.

"You'll be going to a new school," she began brusquely, "Someone from the school will be arriving later today to explain things and help you out. That being said, there are some things you need to know before they arrive. "

Aunt Petunia paused, unsure of how to continue. She opened her mouth to speak and shut it. Harry guessed where this was headed. He wondered if he should allow her to struggle a little longer. It would certainly be entertaining. He decided not to. When she _did_ tell him about magic he wasn't sure if he would be able to act surprised or shocked enough to be believed. Things could get unpleasant.

"I know about magic, Aunt Petunia" he blurted out. As soon as he said it, he hated himself for it. He had been holding on to this secret for so long now and to reveal it at the prospect of a _possibility _of unpleasantness showed him how weak he was. He resolved to change that as he looked up to see his aunt's reaction to his revelation. Her mouth had dropped. 

* * *

Harry was nervous. It was now three in the afternoon. The letter his Aunt had received had said that someone would be calling on him at four that very afternoon to explain things as they were aware Harry had had a muggle upbringing. Harry was dressed in his best clothes, which meant his least tatty T-shirt that had shrunk too much after the first wash and had not fit Dudley anymore and a pair of his school trousers. He had spent a tense five minutes in a desperate battle with his hair trying to make it lie flat and had given up in despair when the tuft sticking up at the back had sprung back up after the seventh time he had brushed it down.

He sat in the kitchen, shelling peas in preparation of dinner that night (Aunt Petunia had decided that since he was waiting, he might as well make himself useful). He wasn't nervous about what the representative had to say. He was worried about them finding out about his abilities for the woman had impressed on him how absolutely imperative it was that he not mention it to anyone, no matter what the provocation or temptation.

As he sat there, he thought of all the possible questions they would ask and how he would deflect them in order to keep them from finding out about his abilities. He didn't really know why he felt it was the right thing to do but he had a vague notion that trusting strangers with information, any kind of information might just provide them the means to hurt him later. And he was determined to avoid getting hurt at all costs. It wasn't a very nice feeling, after all.

The clock on the Dursleys fireplace indicated it was a few minutes to four. Harry had lost track of time. He decided to watch the second hand for the remainder of the time partly to give himself something to do and partly to prevent him from overthinking and flying into panic. At the stroke of four, there was a sharp knock at the door. Harry bounded across the kitchen, down the hallway to the living room where Aunt Petunia had just stepped back from the door inviting someone in.

Harry took a moment to calm himself. He pushed out all irrelevant thoughts and chained his tumultuous emotions in a far side of his mind. He was ready. He walked out calmly into the living room prepared to be as polite as he could and make the best impression possible when he noticed the person who was going to explain all. She was a tall, rather severe looking witch who seemed to give off an air that made you want to instantly apologise and promise to do better. She was in the middle of a sentence when she saw Harry and abruptly broke off.

"Heavens!" she said softly, "he looks just like him. Just like James when he was his age." Then she looked into his eyes and gave a little start. "Except his eyes. He has your sister's eyes", she said turning back to Petunia. Harry saw a flash of different emotions pass over her face, sorrow, regret, joy and was that affection?

Clearing her throat, the witch walked over to Harry and stated briskly, "Good afternoon Mr Potter. My name is Minerva McGonagall. I teach Transfiguration at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You may call me Professor or ma'am. Now, I understand your aunt has given you the general idea as to why I am here?"

Harry nodded, "Good afternoon, Professor. It's a pleasure to meet you. Aunt Petunia did tell me, thank you."

Professor McGonagall nodded approvingly at Petunia who excused herself and left the room muttering about dinner and how peas didn't shell themselves. It was just the two of them there and Harry felt a little uncomfortable being with the Professor. She seemed decent enough and Harry was a good judge of character, he had to be, but he had no idea if the same standards applied for witches and wizards.

Sensing Harry's unease, Professor McGonagall tried to put him at ease. She told him about Hogwarts and how it was one of the finest magical institutes in the world. She told him about the Houses, the points system, the classes and the teachers before he started to relax and actually interact. She noted that he was extraordinarily shy and polite to a fault. He never volunteered information about his life with the Dursleys and even prompting only got her so far. She decided not to press the boy there as he seemed to clam up and get a cool look in his eyes when she did.

She was surprised by how intelligent he was which was apparent from all the questions he had about Hogwarts and the Wizarding world in general. He also seemed to simply accept her answers without batting an eye and eager to learn more. She was impressed. He would probably do Ravenclaw proud, she thought. However, there were some concerns her interaction with him raised. She found him quiet and shy. Perhaps too quiet, too shy, he was withdrawn and many times she noticed that his smile didn't reach his smile. It was ever present and up at all the right places at exactly the right time. Perhaps, too perfect to be spontaneous, it was more of a habit, something ingrained rather than genuine happiness or amusement.

Minerva shook herself. She was reading too much into trivialities. She must have become sentimental seeing James and Lily's son, the son of two of her most loved students. She sighed and turned to Harry once more where he was reading his official Hogwarts letter. He looked up and hesitated. She almost smiled. She knew that expression well. She had seen it on Lily's face often enough when the red haired witch wanted to ask a question but wasn't sure if she would receive an answer or a scolding.

"Go ahead, Mr Potter, I'm here to answer your questions, no matter how many."

"Thanks, Professor. I was wondering if I could do my shopping on my own tomorrow. I know you said you would take me but you must be very busy and I wouldn't want to impose."

Minerva did smile this time. He was as sweet as James. "It is no hardship, I assure you, Mr Potter. While I do have other demands on my time, I do not think a first year's shopping will take very long."

Harry took a deep breath, "Thanks again, Professor but I really would rather go on my own. I'd feel awful about keeping you from your work. I promise to be careful and not cause any trouble."

Minerva was taken aback. She briefly wondered what he was up to before dismissing the thought quickly. Maybe he was just not that comfortable with her yet, she reasoned. After all, from what she could see of his home life it wasn't very conducive to developing a trusting nature. Still, she was apprehensive about leaving a child to shop for his school things alone in his first foray in the magical world.

"I think that can be managed, Mr Potter. I shall accompany you to Gringotts, the bank, and ensure you have the necessary funds and lists to make your purchases. I will provide you with a magical means of returning once you are done. Kindly do not be late tomorrow, Mr Potter."

Harry was relieved. He really didn't want someone hovering around him the first time he stepped into in to the Wizarding world. Even if it was the decent Professor McGonagall. He wanted to enjoy his day away from the Dursleys, his day of freedom by being free. Also, it was difficult for him to accept help from a stranger, no matter how decent or trustworthy she seemed.

Professor McGonagall stood to leave and Harry jumped to his feet. She bid farewell and turned to the door. As she was about to step out, she murmured too softly for him to hear, "That was not quite what I'd expected."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I'm afraid I went a bit overboard with this chapter. It's a a little shy of 6000 words. I would appreciate it if you could review the chapters since it'd help me find out what I'm doing wrong. I'm new to this in case you haven't already realized so all the help I get is appreciated. Enough said, Hope you like it.

* * *

**CHAPTER 4**

Minerva McGonagall apparated a few blocks before Number 4, Privet Drive. She adjusted her cloak and walked smartly along the sidewalk. She had barely made it past a block when she heard a voice call her name. Her wand was in her hand as she wheeled around sharply. There were no known witches or wizards living in close proximity to Harry Potter and she didn't really fequent muggle drinking establishments.

"Minerva! Minerva it's ….Oh!"

A thin, aged woman with wispy hair stopped short at the wand pointed in her face. McGonagall's eyes widened as she recognised the person that had called out to her.

"Arabella?"

Her wand lowered and Mrs Figg breathed out, trying to ignore the fact that one of her old friends had aimed a wand at her face. "Yes, of course, Minerva! As I was saying, it's been so long since you came to visit!"

McGonagall was stunned. Arabella lived here? But she had disappeared one day all those years ago and had never responded to owls. No one knew where she had gone off and here she was, facing her on a sidewalk in the muggle suburbs. And not just _any _sidewalk, one that led straight to the house of The Boy Who Lived. Mrs Figg seemed oblivious to McGonagall's train of thought as she prattled on about something. Wait, was she talking about _cats?_

_"_…..and Roy has the most _beautiful _black fur…"

"Where on earth have you been, Arabella? " McGonagall interrupted, still shocked "We looked everywhere for you! How did you manage to disappear so cleanly without magic?"

Now Mrs Figg looked confused.

"Why, I thought you knew, Minerva. Albus pulled me out to keep an eye on young Harry. Since I'm a squib, I wouldn't appear on most magical scans unless someone was looking for it specifically and so far, no one has. Besides, Albus helped me, of course. My house is impervious to all kinds of scrying spells. But… but… I thought you _knew!_ I thought everyone knew…. " Mrs Figg broke off as she realized what it meant if people had not known where she was.

"Albus," McGonagall breathed wearily. She could see him doing something like that quite easily and hated to admit it might have been the right thing to do. The _way _he went about it, though! Honestly! Uprooting a recently widowed woman right after the war, separating her from her friends and family and not allowing her any magical contact lest she be discovered was too awful, even for him. She was determined to have a word with him when she got back. She reluctantly turned to leave.

"Well, Arabella I really would love to stay and catch up with you but I'm afraid I've promised Mr Potter I would pick him up in about a quarter of an hour. So if you'll excuse me…"

"Oh, you're here for Harry? Well, why didn't you say so, dear? He lives a little further down the road, though. I'm afraid you have a bit of a walk" said Mrs Figg pointing vaguely. A thought suddenly struck McGonagall.

"Arabella, have you had the chance to speak with Harry? Can you tell me anything about him? His home life, perhaps?" asked McGonagall.

"About Harry? Why, of course! I know the lad well! The Dursleys leave him with me when they go out and that happens more often than you might think. I did miss out on having him over a few weeks back though, I had broken my leg and was on my way to St Mungos when they called so natu…."

"Yes, yes, Arabella, that is very unfortunate," McGonagall said impatiently, she had forgotten how chatty Arabella was, "Would you mind telling me about his home life?"

"Oh, the Dursleys are a decent lot. Yes, to be sure. I believe Harry is quite mischievous. They always tell me how sorry they are to leave him behind but they really have no choice since he's always getting into trouble. Funny, though. The boy is quiet as a mouse when he comes over. Sits in a corner and reads something or the other. And always displays such lovely manners! Never a peep out of him between the Dursleys dropping him off and picking him up! But I suppose it must be the cats, he seems to like them and they like him. They probably keep an eye on him for the Dursleys say he is very naughty."

McGonagall pursed her lips. Apparently, she had forgotten a lot about her old friend. Arabella had never been the sharpest tool in the drawer. She sighed and decided she had better continue or risk arriving late at the Dursleys. She bade Mrs Figg goodbye and apparated as close to the Dursleys as she could. The remaining distance was covered as quickly as possible.

Minerva was surprised to find Harry standing in the garden. He was neatly dressed and apparently waiting for her, checking his watch every few seconds. Well, wasn't he excited, or was it impatience that she detected, thought Minerva as she approached him. More importantly, why was he in the garden?

"Good morning, Mr Potter. I am glad to see you are ready on time and though I admire your enthusiasm, I am afraid we must delay our departure a short while. I need to have a few words with your Aunt."

Harry greeted her politely, "Good morning, Professor. I'm sorry but Aunt Petunia had to leave with Dudley to get him fitted for his new uniform and get his school things. I wish I could invite you in but Aunt Petunia locked the house before she left. Was it anything important?"

Minerva did not like that. Locking an eleven year old boy outside the house to wait for a stranger they'd met the day before was not something she approved of. On taking a closer look, she saw Harry had stopped checking his watch and looked calm. Not excited, not impatient to leave, calm. That meant she was wrong, the boy had been nervous about whether she would return. That wasn't a very positive indication of Harry's upbringing. But she pushed the thought aside for now, determined to make enquires later.

"It's perfectly alright, Mr Potter. I will arrange for a letter to communicate what I had to discuss. Now, if you are ready, we shall be off."

Harry nodded and looked around quickly. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it. Minerva, who by now had begun to understand him a little better, asked in a kind voice, "Yes, Mr Potter, what would you like to know?"

"Actually, Professor, I was wondering how we would be traveling to Diagon Alley. You did say it was in London and I was hoping we would use some kind of magical means of transportation. But I guess we will be getting to London the non-magical way?" asked Harry, looking around again as if hoping to see some magical vehicle he had missed the first time he looked around.

They had come a small distance from the Dursleys by now and Professor McGonagall stopped.

"We are, as a matter of fact, Mr Potter. We will be Apparating to just outside Gringotts. Now, if you would be so kind as to hold my arm firmly and not let go" said Professor McGonagall offering her arm.

Harry looked at her strangely before doing as he was told. Professor McGonagall withdrew her wand from her robes and with a loud CRACK the two disappeared.

* * *

Harry felt as if he were being pulled through a tunnel too small for him as the air was squeezed out of lungs. He gasped, his eyes watering as an immense pressure surrounded him. Suddenly, he found himself standing in front of an enormously impressive building that seemed to be made entirely of white marble. He found he could breathe again and the pressure enveloping him had dissipated leaving him a bit teary eyed but otherwise fine.

He looked around to see Professor McGonagall watching him. She gave him a nod, "I'm afraid the sensation requires some time to get accustomed to, Mr Potter. Are you alright?"

He nodded mutely as he turned back in front, overawed by the sheer opulence of the building before him. Professor McGonagall made for the large entrance doors and Harry followed her, eyes darting around the building, taking in the squat, frightening creatures standing guard at the door. They were no taller than four feet and had a large head with sharp teeth and pointed ears. Their beady eyes scanned Harry as he passed them, giving him the once over. Harry suppressed a shiver. He wasn't sure he liked the goblins very much.

Once through the entrance, Harry stared unashamedly. He was ushered across a circular hall that must have been at least a hundred feet across and found himself facing a large expanse of dark, gleaming wood. Looking up, he almost jumped back to see a goblin peering down at him from his seat. Professor McGonagall was standing beside him.

"Mr Potter would like to make a withdrawal. Here is the key to the Potter Trust vault and the necessary documentation" Professor McGonagall said stiffly, pushing a bunch of papers and a small golden key onto the desk.

Harry noted that the Professor, along with every other human in the bank was distinctly ill at ease around the goblins. It was interesting. The goblin at the desk cleared i's throat and Harry's head jerked up. "Very well, everything seems to be in order. If you will follow Griphook, he will take you to your vault now" the goblin said in a rasping, scratchy voice. A second goblin had appeared at their side holding a lantern who simply walked off towards a set of double doors in the walls of the circular room where a number of witches and wizards with their goblin counterparts could be seen to be disappearing. Harry and Professor McGonagall hurried off after him.

There was a cart of sorts waiting for them as they left the main hall and descended a flight of stairs to what was obviously an underground cavern. Motioning to get in, the Griphook climbed aboard the cart and set the lamp into a specially crafted holder located at the front of the cart. Professor McGonagall Climbed in gracefully and took a seat, a distasteful expression on her face. Harry hesitated. He was torn between climbing onto what was obviously an enchanted cart set on enchanted rails and going off to a vault filled with gold and silver and bronze coins but he was didn't trust the goblins. The feeling he got around them didn't help either. In the end, he gave in on seeing Professor McGonagall's expectant look and decided she wouldn't be anywhere near it if it were dangerous and climbed in.

The cart shot off, rocketing through tunnels and over bridges, rounding corners at break neck speed almost flattening Harry against his seat. Harry's heart raced with excitement as he felt the speed of the cart and the wind in his hair. All of a sudden, the cart stopped and Griphook jumped off, walking toward a metal gate that closed off what appeared to be a small cave.

Harry leapt out, feeling the thrill coursing through him subside and offered a hand to Professor McGonagall who gladly took it before stepping out gingerly. A loud metal clanging drew their attention and Harry turned to see that Griphook had opened the metal gate. They walked into the vault and Professor McGonagall produced a bag which she proceeded to fill with a number of gold and silver coins and a handful of little bronze ones. There seemed to be mountains of gold and silver everywhere Harry looked and although Professor McGonagall had told him he was fairly well off, he wasn't prepared for this. And to think this was only the Trust Vault!

He picked up a gold coin from the nearest pile and examined it closely. Professor McGonagall had called it a Galleon. He saw the seal of Gringotts on one side and a lot of little numbers and inscriptions on the other. Professor McGonagall came up to him, the bag in her hands jingling.

"I believe this should be more than adequate to cover your expenses with a generous amount left over. I need hardly advise you to employ discretion with regard to your expenses, Mr Potter" said Professor McGonagall while wondering if she really needed to say that. Harry would be the last person to need advice of that sort, not to mention having a little money to spend might actually be a very nice change for him.

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall, rest assured I won't spend it all at once" said Harry with a small smile. Minerva nodded.

After the cart ride back, the two walked out of the bank and stood a little to the side of the great stairs. Minerva turned, "If that is all, Mr Potter, I shall depart now. However, I do think you should reconsider. Diagon Alley is very vast and fairly confusing for someone here the on their first visit. I can assure you it will not be an inconvenience." Minerva hoped he would change his mind, she did want to spend more time with him, get to know him better. She had grown quite fond of the quiet, intelligent little boy with the green eyes and black hair.

"I appreciate everything you have done for me, Professor but I really would like to do this on my own" said Harry quietly.

Minerva considered him for a minute. He didn't seem scared or nervous. Perhaps he just needed more time. "Alright, Mr Potter, that just leaves the question of how you would be returning to the Dursleys once your shopping is concluded. Now, I could arrange for a portkey but that would draw unnecessary attention to your residence as all portkeys must be registered with the Department of Magical Transportation. The Knight Bus seems to be your best option. I am afraid you will be subjected to a certain amount of unpleasantness however, after that cart ride you enjoyed I think you may find it interesting, nevertheless. "

Harry listened attentively as Professor McGonagall explained how to flag the bus and what to expect. She didn't go into details about the latter, trusting the Knight Bus to speak for itself. Bidding goodbye and with a promise to meet him when the term began, she drew her wand and vanished with a CRACK!

Harry turned and noticed for the first time that he seemed to be standing in the middle of a main road of sorts. The road was filled with witches and wizards and small children laughing and talking as they went about their work or stopped for something to eat. Shops lined the road on either side and displayed their wares in brilliant windows with bright colours and flashing lights. Groups of children huddled around a window below a board proclaiming 'Quality Quidditch Supplies' while teenage girls giggled swarming around a shocking pink board; 'Madame Beliot's Bottled Beauty'. Harry saw an apothecary, a pet store and what not. A heady sensation gripped him. This was his world. There were no Dursleys here. There was no one the Dursleys had already poisoned against him, no one thought him to be a mentally unstable and violent child to be avoided. He could start afresh.

Pulling out his list he decided to get his books first. He was about to take a step when he noticed the odd stares some of the wizards and witches were giving him. He looked down and realized he was wearing regular clothes that might be fine on the other side of London but stood out like a sore thumb here. He quickly changed his mind and decided to get some new clothes first. Scanning the shops, he noticed 'Madam Malkin's; Robes for All Occasions' and made is way there trying to avoid knocking into people.

Pushing the door open. Harry rested against the glass and heaved a sigh of relief. He had made it! A female voice right next to him made him jump.

"It _is_ busy today isn't it, dear? Starting at Hogwarts? You'll need your school robes and everything I take it? We can get you fitted for those quite easily. In the meantime would you care to try out some robes for daily wear? I think black would suit you, a green lining perhaps to bring out your eyes….."

Harry blinked. The woman didn't stop talking as she measured him, stuck pins in him, fitted him out, and took him around the casual robes selection. Not wishing to spend too much time, Harry quickly selected a few items here and there and almost ran out of the store wearing a new set of clothes while agreeing to return for the school robes on his way back. Once outside, he was engulfed by the mass of shoppers. Spotting the book store; Flourish and Botts, Harry ducked inside the shop, a bell announcing his presence.

Seeing him, an assistant hurried over, smoothing his hair back with one hand. "First year? Need your school books?" asked the assistant briskly. "Yes sir, although I would like to get a few extra books as well. You see, I was raised non-magically and I thought I could get a few books about the Wizarding world to get to know it better. I hope you will be able to assist me with that as well" replied Harry a bit apprehensive as to whether the assistant would take the time to help him. The assistant's face brightened.

"Of course, Mr…."

"Potter", Harry supplied.

The assistant's eyes flicked to his forehead where a lightening shaped scar was just visible beneath all the hair. He stood there dumbly with awe in his eyes as he looked at what he had thought was just another first year a few seconds ago. Harry shifted, uncomfortable. The strange woman had told all about his fame in the magical world. He cleared his throat.

The assistant jumped. "Of course, Mr Potter, it would be my honour! Feel free to browse through this section, it contains all you might want about our world. I'll get all your school books for you."

Harry protested, saying he could get his own books and browse after.

"Mr Potter, please. It is the least I can do", he said firmly before rushing off.

Harry stared at the retreating back of the assistant for a moment before turning to the section of the store he had been pointed to. His eyes scanned the titles on the shelves while he occasionally pulled a few out, debating which one to buy. He was reading a book, lost while holding another in his hand, the assistant had dropped off his school books almost immediately and demanded he call him if he required _anything_. A voice broke through his thoughts, "You should take that if you're confused. The one in your other hand are a little out dated."

Harry dropped the books, startled. As he bent to pick them up, he found himself staring at a mass of bushy brown hair. The hair obscured the girl's face as she helped him gather his books. Straightening up, she stuck her hand out smiling. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger. I'm starting Hogwarts this year as well. What's your name?"

Harry hesitated just a bit before taking her hand and gave a quick smile, "Hello Hermione, my name is Harry Potter and.." Harry never finished what he was going to say because Hermione suddenly squealed. "Really? I've read all about you! You're in _The Rise and Fall of Great Wizards_ and _Heroes of Our World _and..and.." she faltered suddenly, a thought striking her.

"I.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take up your time, it's just I was so excited about meeting you.. of course it was rude of me….you probably get this all the time…" Hermione stopped. Harry was looking at her oddly. "Hermione, I was raised in the non-magical world and this is my first visit to Diagon Alley. I had no idea I was famous till only recently. So if you don't mind, could you tell me which book I should take again? I'd really like to know more about the magical world."

"So..so you're not mad?" asked Hermione tentatively.

Harry smiled, warming up to her. She was genuinely worried that she had upset him. "Of course not! Now, could you tell me which book I should take? Any others you'd suggest as well, since you seem to have read a lot of them already."

Hermione blushed. "I've been coming here every day for the past three days. My parents took the week off after I got my letter, I finished my shopping the first day and we've been coming here to experience more of the world I'll be growing up in. You should take this one" she said, picking the book from his arms. She seemed to be getting back to normal.

Harry and Hermione spent the next hour browsing, selecting and occasionally losing themselves in a book before the other laughed and shook them. By the end, they both considered each other a friend. As Harry waited while his books were rung up, Hermione beside him chattering away, two adults dressed in muggle clothing appeared behind them. "There you are Hermione! We were looking all over for you! And who's your new friend?" asked the woman that was obviously Mrs Granger.

Hermione grinned sheepishly and said, "I'm sorry Mum, I was helping Harry pick out some books. We picked different ones so that we could exchange them with each other once we're done. This is Harry, Mum, Harry Potter. Harry, meet my Mum and my Dad." She made no mention of Harry's fame and he was thankful.

"Good morning, Mr and Mrs Granger." Said Harry politely, shaking hands.

"It's very nice to meet you, dear" said Mrs Granger, "Much as we love being known as 'Hermione's Mum and Dad', my name is Emma.."

"And I'm Robert" finished Mr Granger with a small laugh.

Hermione went red.

"So tell me, Harry, where are your parents? Perhaps we can have lunch together." Said Mrs Granger, craning her neck to see if she could spot someone that looked like Harry's parent.

"My parents are dead, ma'am", said Harry quietly, "They died when I was one. I was brought up by my Aunt and Uncle."

Mrs Granger's hands flew to her mouth, "I'm so sorry, dear! I…"

"It's perfectly alright, Mrs Granger, you couldn't have known" Harry interrupted quickly.

"Well, then where are your Aunt and Uncle, Harry? Maybe we can ask them to join us" put in Mr Granger.

Hermione looked at Harry, suddenly realising that she hadn't asked him that, assuming his guardians were around somewhere.

Harry replied calmly, "My Aunt had to finish shopping for my cousin so she stepped out in to non-magical London. She said she would meet me here once I was done. My Uncle had work." He knew how it would seem if he told them he was on his own.

Robert Granger narrowed his eyes. He didn't like people leaving children unattended, even for a short while. "Well, Harry. Looks like you can join us for lunch in that case. I'm sure Hermione would be delighted to have her new friend come along", he said.

Harry was about to refuse politely when Hermione turned, looking at him eagerly.

"If it's not an inconvenience, I'd love to, sir. Would you mind if I finished my shopping before, sir? I'd like to get it out of the way first."

"Don't be silly, Harry, it's nothing. And of course you can. We 've still got a good three hours before even Robert can justify having lunch" said Mrs Granger with a look at her husband.

"Hey!" said Mr Granger good naturedly. "I think we can accompany Harry while he does his shopping, too" he added a bit firmly. He didn't want to see an eleven year old roam the streets ion his own. Harry was having none of that though.

"I'd like to do it on my own, if you don't mind, sir. I'm used to it and I wouldn't want to trouble you."

"Nonsense, Harry. I insist. Come on, if we hurry, we can finish everything in an hour or two" said Mrs Granger.

The store owner finished ringing up the sale and Harry paid over the amount. He was about to respond coolly when he thought of Hermione. She was his first friend here and he didn't want to upset her. He couldn't see any other way out though. Mr Granger was most insistent. He sighed heavily.

"Thank you Mr and Mrs Granger, that would be nice."

* * *

Hermione was delighted at being able to spend the day with her new friend. She had never really had friends when she was younger, preferring books and her parents for what little time they could devote to her since their practice kept them so busy (her parents were dentists). She found Harry intelligent and nice and had a lot in common with him. Their love for books aside, Harry didn't seem to have many friends either, it was a feeling she got from his unease around people. He wasn't very good at interacting although they got on fairly well; she assumed it was because they had so much to talk about. Books were, after all, an endless source of conversation.

She had watched as he had gone about making his purchases. They had stopped at the apothecary and Cuthbert's Cauldrons for his Potions stuff and ducked into a few stores to get the remaining items. Throughout, she had watched as he had handled all the transactions calmly. After watching a couple of times, she realised that it was all an act. He was nervous but determined to pretend otherwise. She noted a few small things here and there like how he tried to distance himself from crowds and kept flattening his hair over his forehead where his scar was. He obviously hated attention. She filed it all away mentally.

At last, they only had Harry's wand left to buy. As they walked to Ollivander's, an ancient looking shop set apart from the others at the end of the lane, Hermione could feel Harry's excitement. She smiled. She could remember her excitement at the prospect of getting a wand too. She decided not to mention to Harry they weren't allowed to use it until they got to school yet.

They entered the darkened shop to the sound of bells ringing somewhere in the depths of the building. The store was filled with shelves having hundreds of flat, rectangular boxes on top of each other. Some were stacked neatly while others were stuffed haphazardly. She shivered; she didn't like the feeling she got here any more than she did last time.

"Ah, yes. I was wondering when I would be seeing you, Mr Potter" came a soft, reedy voice.

Harry, who had been examining one of the shelves jumped as a thin old man came into view. Hermione fought back a smile. The old man had scared her the same way when she was here the last time. She could see her parents were amused by the man's love for the dramatic.

Harry simply stood there, waiting as the man approached him.

"I remember your parents when they were here, buying their first wands. Seems almost like yesterday", he said with a faraway look in his milky white eyes. His eyes snapped into focus, "Well, Mr Potter, if you will raise your wand arm, we shall get started."

Harry stood there, uncertain, "I am right handed if that's what you mean", he said. "That _is_ what I mean, Mr Potter", Ollivander called over his shoulder as he fiddled around in a drawer before bringing out a measuring tape. One tap of his wand and the tape sprang at Harry's arm, measuring the length from his elbow to his fingers, his shoulder to wrist, his shoulder to the tips of his fingers before crumpling up suddenly. A slip of paper appeared in Ollivander's hand. The old wandmaker looked at it carefully before dropping it on his table where it burst into flames.

"Hmmm…tricky, yes...perhaps this,…no, no.. Ah!.." Ollivander muttered under his breath as he touched different boxes, occasionally pulling out one here and there. He returned with a bunch of them in his arms and dropped them on a table in front of Harry. He took a wand out of one of them and handed it Harry, hilt first.

" Oak and Dragon heartstring. Fourteen inches. If you would be so kind as to try this, Mr Potter."

Harry took the wand feeling stupid. He knew how to perform magic on his own. Was using a wand any different? Was he supposed to be able to do magic just by waving it around? Did it work the same way? He was just about to try using his own magic when Ollivander suddenly snatched it back. "No, no, definitely not. Here, try this one", he said thrusting another in Harry's hand. He snatched that back after a second as well.

This process had repeated at least a dozen times and Hermione's thoughts were beginning to drift when suddenly she heard a cry and looked up. The wand Harry was holding had burst into flames and he had dropped it. Ollivander was staring at the wand curiously. He bent closer, examining it before straightening up suddenly. The flames went out and the wand seemed unscathed.

"Ah, I do believe I see what went wrong. There is no need to panic, I assure you" he said looking at her parents and Harry who was looking very worried. "Mr Potter, if you will refrain from trying to force your magic through the wand, I believe we shall get better results" he said, with a half smile. Harry looked sheepishly at him and nodded. Hermione was curious. Force his magic? Whatever did he mean by that? What was Harry doing? She opened her mouth to ask when Ollivander turned to her.

"Mr Potter seems to be quite adept at controlling his magic, Ms Granger. I am afraid the fault lies with me. I did not confide in him what to expect and since he did not find a match, he assumed he had to try to perform magic using the wand. It is nothing to worry about, I assure you. My apologies, Mr Potter", he said, turning to Harry.

Harry mumbled something, ducking his head. Ollivander laughed. "Do not worry, Mr Potter, we shall find a wand for you yet. You see…"

Suddenly, Ollivander stopped. He rushed to the very back of his shop and came out holding a box rather gingerly. "Perhaps you would care to try this, Mr Potter. It is one of my more temperamental creations and employs a rather unusual combination of the tail feather of a Phoenix and bark of Holly."

Ollivander removed the cover and offered the wand to Harry, not touching it. Harry picked it up carefully. A sudden warmth filled the room and Harry smiled. Hermione noticed and she knew he had found his wand, remembering the sensation she had felt when she had found hers.

She clapped, delighted. Her parents were smiling and Ollivander had a distinctly satisfied look on his face.

* * *

Once Harry had paid for his new wand, the four of them walked to the front of the Alley. There was a large wall there and Harry looked at it, nonplussed as they stood there waiting while Hermione carefully drew her wand from inside her sweater. She tapped a series of bricks in the wall and suddenly, the wall seemed to fold outwards from the brick she had last touched. An entire section of the wall shifted and Harry watched in amazement as it gave way to a room that was obviously the back of a pub, judging from the noises that came from the door.

The Grangers and Harry stepped inside and found themselves at the back of a dingy pub with rather weird patrons. Hermione giggled at Harry's face when he saw a woman down a drink that spouted tongues of flame and steam begin to come out of her ears. Mr and Mrs Granger hurried the two children along, muttering about how the entry had _had_ to be through a bar.

Once Harry stepped out the front door, he blinked. They had stepped in to non-magical London. It looked odd after all the time he had spent in Diagon Alley. The Grangers made their way to a restaurant a few blocks away and proceeded to have a most enjoyable lunch. Harry tried to pay for his meal in the end but realised he only had gold Galleons. He was embarrassed and apologised profusely but Mr Granger laughed it off, saying he would not have his daughter's friends paying him for a treat.

As they made their way back to the pub, which Harry found out was called the 'Leaky Cauldron', he realised that the Grangers lived about twenty minutes from his house. Hermione was thrilled as that meant they could exchange their books as soon as they finished reading it without having to wait for the term to start. The older Grangers looked on in amusement as Harry seemed to be just as thrilled at the prospect. When they reached the Leaky Cauldron, the Grangers bid farewell with Harry promising to call on Hermione the next day.

Harry waited until the Grangers had disappeared. He walked to a secluded back alley, dropped his packages and brought out a flat, rectangular box. He opened it and removed his wand. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he took a deep breath and stuck his wand out.

There was a loud CRACK and Harry jumped aside as a massive triple decker bus appeared. It was a bright purple with the letters 'Knight Bus' in gold on the side. As Harry got into it, the bus jumped forward and disappeared with another loud CRACK!

A tabby cat stared after the bus from the shadows, its tail swishing.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**** Some of you felt Harry was a bit off his game on his trip. Well, either that or the PMs I received were an elaborate hoax. Anyway, it was kind of deliberate. I mean it's the first time he's stepped in the magical world, he's unaware of their customs, their norms and above all, is an eleven year old out on his own in a strange place. Please do review and let me know what you think. Good or bad, all reviews are appreciated and help me a lot! **

**CHAPTER 5**

It had been a week since the trip to Diagon Alley with Hermione and her parents and for Harry it had been one of the best weeks of his life. He had spent the mornings completing his chores at a rate that made Aunt Petunia sick just to look at him. After a meagre lunch he would rush to his cupboard and pull out a small bag filled with books; his school books as well as the ones he had bought for himself. As he would walk calmly past the kitchen with the straining bag in his arms (the shoulder straps disliked being stressed and complained threateningly each time he wore the bag the right way), Aunt Petunia would invariably purse her lips and look away.

She disapproved of the boy spending the day outside although she had nothing to complain about as Harry finished all his chores so quickly. And since he had taken to coming home in time to cook dinner, she decided not to press the matter.

Harry had become a permanent fixture at the Granger's residence. Emma and Robert were quite taken with him and loved to see their daughter having a real friend who understood and even shared her passion for books. Their practice wasn't far and they made it a point to come home for lunch when Hermione had vacation so they could spend a little more time together. Harry often showed up right after they were done and he and Hermione would retire to the living room with their books and sheets of notes and spend the day working on different incantations, wand movements, potions ingredients and generally just reading ahead.

They were invariably shooed out of the house once the Grangers returned from their practice. Emma was firm on that point. She claimed she needed a little peace and quiet after a long day but Hermione knew better. She and Harry were nothing but quiet, well, at least when they were studying because she did tend to talk a lot when they took a break or stopped. She knew her parents just wanted the two to go outside, play, have fun and get some exercise. That didn't stop her from grumbling every time it happened.

The third day this occurred, they had decided to spend the evening in the park. Hermione was about to flop down on the closest bench when Harry grabbed her arm and nodded to a large tree a little away from the children. Once they were comfortably seated on the grass, Hermione looked to see the fading sunlight piercing through the leaves as a light breeze caressed her face. She turned to Harry and opened her mouth to tell him how great the spot was when she stared. Harry was extricating two books from where he had tucked them away; under his jumper.

Pulling the two books free, he calmly turned and offered one of them to Hermione. She hesitated. Surely this was not what her parents had meant when they told them to go out for a while? If they had wanted them to read, they would have suggested taking books or just allowed them to stay in themselves. Harry watched her deliberating before he simply turned the book over. Hermione glanced at it, distracted by the movement. It was _Hogwarts; A History._ She bit her lip, it was her favourite book and she absolutely loved reading about her new school. She thought about, it couldn't hurt to read. After all, it wasn't like she was doing something _bad._

A few moments later, the two were sitting with their backs against the tree, reading. After that it became a practice.

* * *

"Harry, my parents are taking me to Diagon Alley tomorrow! My birthday's a few weeks away and they decided to get me a present early! You see, they weren't sure if they would be able to send me a gift since we don't own an owl or anything and we're not really sure if the regular post system works for magical addresses", Hermione burst out as soon as Harry put down his books in the Granger's living room.

Harry looked at her. "That's great. Diagon Alley was really fun. Do you know what you'd like?", he asked.

"Well, I was really thinking of an owl. I mean, when I'll be in Hogwarts I'm sure I'll miss my parents a lot and an owl would be the only way to communicate", said Hermione thoughtfully, "Yes, I do believe I'll get an owl. Oh, I almost forgot! Mum told me to ask you if you'd like to come as well! She said Daddy could speak to your uncle about it and that it would be really nice if you would come", said Hermione.

Harry's face brightened a little but that was the only reaction Hermione got except for a quiet "Thank you, of course I'll come!" Once again she wondered what kind of life Harry had had.

The next day, Harry was comfortably seated in the back of the Granger's car with Hermione by his side, barely able to contain her excitement. She kept up a running commentary on the different kinds of owls there were, their characteristics and what she thought of them. Robert listened patiently, nodding at the appropriate moments while Emma glanced back occasionally to see a rapt little boy with bright green eyes absorbing every word with his head slightly crooked. She gave a small smile every time she turned behind.

They arrived at the Leaky Cauldron and Robert went off to park the car leaving the three at the entrance. As they stood there, making idle conversation and waiting for Robert, a woman, obviously a witch and two men came up to the trio. The witch went straight to Harry and sank into a bow. "Harry Potter! As I live and breathe! Thank you..thank you!" she said, tears streaming down her face. The men smiled at him and shook his hand, thanking him over and over again. There was something at once sad and joyful about their smiles.

Harry's face was inscrutable. There was a polite lift of the corners of his mouth as he inclined his head, acknowledging the witch and wizards. Hermione watched quietly as Emma tried to figure out what had just happened. She had known Harry was famous, Hermione had told her as much. But to evoke this kind of an emotion from strangers, for Harry wasn't acquainted with them she was sure of that, was not something to be brushed off. She turned to Hermione opening her mouth to ask but Hermione quickly shook her head and gestured that she would explain later. Emma frowned but did not press.

As soon as Robert arrived, the Hermione and Emma breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Harry had been quieter after the incident, if that was possible, and it had gotten a bit awkward. Robert's ignorant liveliness had its effect and they were soon speaking normally again.

"Harry, would you like to look for a pet as well?" asked Emma. The group was at the Magical Menagerie, the pet shop in Diagon Alley and Hermione was walking around the store, peeping into cages, eyeing the birds speculatively. Harry had tried helping her but had stopped when he realized she didn't really want his help but was too polite to say so. He had then hung back with the elder Grangers, watching as Hermione methodically went about her potential birthday gifts.

Harry considered it. He didn't need an owl, not really. Owls were a way of communicating with people, of keeping in touch. There was no one Harry could think of staying in contact with. Not the Dursleys, definitely. Uncle Vernon had strongly objected to his visiting Diagon Alley again and only Robert's telephone call had convinced him otherwise. The Grangers, after all, were a respectable lot and had a fantastic practice. Nor did he have any friends in the neighborhood, the only one he _did _have was going to the same school with him.

That left a toad or a rat or a cat. Harry wasn't a toad person. Nor did he particularly want a rat, nor a cat for that matter. But he shrugged, not having much else to do, he decided to walk around the store and see if something caught his eye. As he moved, he idly glanced at Hermione to see if she had decided on her owl yet. She had a frown on her face; her head tilted back staring at a Great Horned. Apparently she was nowhere close.

As he passed a dark corner of the shop, there was a sudden whooshing sound and a large jet black owl descended on his shoulder. As Harry turned, trying to see it, a thought struck him and he raised his arm, bent at the elbow to shoulder level. The owl's wings fluttered and it was on his arm, regarding him through green eyes. Harry looked at the owl carefully, he liked it. The owl broke its gaze and turned slightly to look behind him. Harry turned and saw Hermione standing there holding a large and very beautiful bluish-grey cat with intelligent blue eyes.

"That's a very beautiful owl, Harry. I haven't seen read about anything like it, what kind is it?" she said, "It looks just like you!" she added, smirking.

Harry made a face and turned back to see the owl continue to watch him. He looked questioningly at the cat Hermione's arms.

She blushed, "Oh, he was just so adorable! And I figured I could always use the school owls when I needed to though I might just have taken that owl if I had seen it earlier!"

As the returned to the front of the store, Emma and Robert looked at the animals in wonder. They made their way to the till where the owner sat, flicking through a magazine and occasionally taking a sip from a cup of hot chocolate. Without looking up she asked, "Found what you were looking for?" Harry and Hermione deposited their new pets on the counter in front of her. The owner looked up and stiffened at the black owl glaring at her. Suddenly, she relaxed into a smile. "I'm glad she's decided to choose someone. It's been a while since I've had her, she has quite a temper too", she said rubbing her arm a little uncomfortably as if remembering something unpleasant, "the Russian Blue is a fine choice, if I may say so", she added smiling at Hermione.

"Please, could you tell me what kind of an owl she is? It's just that I've never quite seen anything like it when I researched owls before coming here", said Hermione looking at the witch earnestly.

The witch snorted, "You've seen that owl everywhere and nowhere, child. That's a Morfowl. It gets its name from its ability to change its appearance at will. It's considered to be one of the most magical and intelligent breeds there is. See?" she said as the owl suddenly went from jet black to a snowy white. A smile broke out on Harry's face as he stroked the now white owl. It was perfect, he thought, ignoring the gasp from Emma as the owl shifted colours to black again.

Two very happy kids left the store a few minutes later, their arms laden with a cage and a carrier and bags containing pet treats. Two slightly apprehensive adults followed as a large cat and an even larger owl walked and flew alongside. Hermione was busy telling Harry all about Russian Blues and how they were supposedly intelligent enough to understand their owners. Harry was watching his new owl swoop and fly in circles around them, a thoughtful expression on his face.

* * *

A few days after their latest trip to Diagon Alley, Harry and Hermione were sitting in their usual spot at the park. Crookshanks, for that was what Hermione had decided to name her cat, snoozed in the shade content as Hermione stroked his head with her free hand. Harry had decided to take a small walk as he was feeling drowsy. Hermione was engrossed in her book. At the rate she and Harry got through books, they would finish their entire textbooks by the next week. Harry, she thought fondly, was turning out to be all she could have asked for in a friend. As she sat there, lost to the world, she wasn't aware of two boys and a girl sneaking up on her until they were almost on top of her.

Crookshanks was the first to sense their presence and sprang to his feet, hissing. Hermione started and turned around quickly. Her heart sank. The three had been responsible for most of her tears in her old school. Crookshanks stopped hissing and looked at Hermione for a moment. With a sudden leap he launched himself in the direction the three had approached from and took off. Hermione's mouth trembled. She wished he had stayed.

"Well, what have we here?" drawled the girl. She was about twelve and while the boys were huge enough to be in their teens, they were actually about the same age as Hermione. Lydia, Hugh and Cormac were in fact the most feared trio in Hermione's batch.

"Looks like Granger doesn't know what to do in a park, Lyddie", said Hugh with a smirk. "Maybe she wants us to teach her? "

At this, Cormac, who had been leaning against the tree straightened up, grinning. "We could show her the merry-go-round. I think she'd like that" answered Lydia, her eyes gleaming. At this, Hermione stuck out her chin defiantly, "I don't think I'm interested and you can't make me. Now why don't you run along and play like the other little children?" Hermione was proud her voice hadn't wavered.

Hearing this, however, the trios' faces darkened. Hugh stepped closer, his face red, "Think you're so smart, you little bookworm? We know how to make you do it if it comes to that."

Hermione's shook but kept her resolve. She was not about to be bullied. She was better than this lot and she would _not_ back down. She was just about to retort when Hugh was blasted off his feet. He flew through the air, a look of shock and terror on his face that would have been almost comical had the situation not been what it was. Cormac spun around looking for the cause and noticed a small black haired kid running full tilt straight at him. He relaxed a little; confident he could take on this scrawny kid who was stupid enough to mess with him. As the boy drew closer, however, he could see his eyes. They were a dark green and blazed from a distance. Cormac began to feel uneasy. The kid had blasted Hugh, he suddenly remembered and beads of sweat began to form on his brow. He contemplated running but that would be weak.

Harry drew up to the large boy, barely out of breath, his jaw clenched, eyes hard. He was furious. The boy seemed to be sweating. Harry stopped a few inches from him making the boy step back hastily. The boy suddenly realised what he had done and went red. No puny kid could make him step back like that. And now that Harry was closer, he could see just how thin and small Harry really was. He pushed Harry in the chest, expecting him to fall down. Harry wavered and grabbed Cormac's hands. Cormac screamed.

It felt like hundreds of tiny pins pricking him all over his body. Cormac had experienced an electric shock before and this was about as bad but nowhere as brief. Harry held on grimly as Cormac shook violently, screaming all the while. Harry watched, a cold look in his eyes, not saying a word, his rage seemed to make him detached. He stood there calmly as Cormac continued to scream, lost to the world. A sharp pain in his ankle made him look down and he saw Crookshanks glaring up at him, a single claw extended. He let go of Cormac and the boy dropped on the grass, gasping.

All this while, Lydia had stood rooted to the spot in fear. Unable to move, she had watched as the strange boy had hurt her two friends so easily. As Cormac dropped to the ground, she grew terrified as the boy turned to her, his eyes narrowed. He stopped a few feet away, regarding her coldly. Suddenly, there was a cat on her face. It swiped furiously with its paws, hissing and spitting and she yelled, trying to swat the cat off. With a great effort, she pushed it away and began to run. Looking back, she saw Hugh and Cormac get up and staggering away from the two kids and cat at a decent pace. They ran and did not stop until they reached home.

As soon as they were gone, Harry turned to Hermione. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly. If she hadn't known better, she could have almost said he was his usual, calm, quiet self. Still shaking, she nodded. Harry looked at her closely and nodded. He walked behind her to the tree and gathered their belongings. Together, they set off towards home.

As they walked, Hermione soon recovered and Harry could almost hear her brain whirring. She glanced at Harry unobtrusively a few times before looking back ahead. Harry walked calmly, his eyes dead straight. After a few minutes, as Hermione continued darting glances at Harry, he asked, "What is it, Hermione?"

Hermione jumped straight to it.

"How did you do that? How _could _you do that? You could have seriously hurt them! Not to mention the trouble we'll get into when they tell everyone what happened! "

Harry stopped. Hermione slowed reluctantly and finally stopped, turning to face Harry.

"Hermione, I did what I had to. Crookshanks came to me and scratched and bit my shoe until I realized something was wrong and followed him. Then, well, you saw what happened. All I did was stop them hurting a friend. If I did it in a way that would make them think twice about doing it again in the future….." Harry shrugged.

Hermione worried her lip, head bowed, considering his words. Finally she looked up and smiled weakly. She was shaken by the violence with which Harry had responded but she also realized that it was for her that he had done it. That he had risked getting into trouble if anyone found out simply to protect her. She could not help but feel grateful but at the same time; she resolved to talk to him about his conflict-resolution tactics.

Harry was glad Hermione wasn't mad at him and continued walking. Hermione walked with him in silence. After a couple of minutes, Harry sighed as Hermione kept shooting him glances again, "What now?"

"Can you teach me to do that?"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Not the same thing per se, I meant controlling your magic like you did", she added hastily.

Harry regarded her for a moment.

"Sure", he said casually.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

Hermione passed a weary hand over her face, frustrated. They had been at it for three hours now and she had not managed more than accidently igniting Harry's bag, and that had been sheer emotion, not ability. She glanced over to where Harry was sitting, poring over their Transfigurations text. It wasn't his fault, really. He had been surprised when she hadn't been able to do it after the first few tries and had been exceedingly patient as time wore on.

The two were in the Grangers' backyard that had been fenced in so the danger of someone seeing them would be minimal. As Hermione sighed and stretched out on the grass, Harry looked up. He walked over to where she was and sat down cross legged, fingers playing with the grass absent-mindedly. They lay there like that for a while, neither of them making a sound.

"Hermione", Harry's voice broke the silence, startling her," We leave for Hogwarts in two days." Hermione scrambled to sit up. That declaration hadn't been close to the excitement the two had shared over going to Hogwarts. She looked at him, he was gazing at a tree on the other side of the yard. There was something wrong. She waited.

After what seemed like a long time, Harry finally spoke again.

"You remember the Houses we read about in _Hogwarts: A History_?" he began.

Then it dawned on Hermione. "Harry", she said firmly and waited until he turned around, "We _will _be in the same House, no matter what. You're the best friend I've ever had and even if we do get Sorted into different Houses, I expect you to be there as soon as classes are over, on the dot. And if you're late, Potter just remember that though I may be lousy at wandless magic, I will find the nastiest curse legally possible, practice till I can't feel my wand anymore and _then_, then I'm going to…" she broke off mid-rant as Harry burst out laughing. It was the first time she'd seen him laugh, really laugh and she was glad.

* * *

Harry was halfway through packing his trunk the night before he was to leave for Hogwarts when the cupboard door swung open. Standing in the doorway was a very red, very smelly and very drunk Uncle Vernon. Without a word, he grabbed Harry by the arm, who couldn't dodge the huge man in such a confined space, and yanked him out in a single motion. Harry stumbled but before he could regain his balance, he fell to the floor, a sharp pain in the side of his head as Uncle Vernon's fist came in contact with it.

Breathing heavily, the large man leaned down and grabbed hold of the scared boy's arm, his eyes gleaming savagely, "What's the matter, freak? I never thought you should go to that god awful excuse for a school and you won't! I can always tell Petunia it was an accident. Sure, I could. That's what I'll do! A few broken bones here and there, and there's no way you'll be able to leave tomorrow, is there, freak? LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!" he bellowed suddenly, twisting Harry's arm

"VERNON!"

Vernon Dursley looked up to see Petunia standing at the front door, keys in hand, cradling a bag of groceries. Her face showed nothing but shock and fright as she gazed on the scene unfolding in front of her. "Stay out of it, Petunia" he grunted before turning back to look at the boy on the floor.

Harry looked up and met his Uncle's eyes. The man barely had time to register the feeling of dread that flashed through him when a sharp pain in his head made him drop Harry's arm, yelping. As he stood shakily, holding his head, the large chair from the living room came hurtling through the doorway and smashed right into his side. Harry sprang to his feet, his eyes burning and Aunt Petunia took a step back. The boy looked half crazed and she was suddenly thankful Dudley never came home on time.

She watched as the boy swept into his room and came out dragging a large trunk and a cage. An enormous jet black owl was perched on his shoulder and she flinched as they drew closer. The boy did not stop, did not acknowledge her as he stormed out. She saw him make his way down the drive and to the road before disappearing around a corner. She felt her legs give way and collapsed, trembling. She should not have left the two alone, not when she had seen Vernon grab his favorite bottle of scotch from the cabinet. After the trembling subsided enough for her to stand, she closed the door awkwardly and went over to where her husband lay. He was snoring.

* * *

Harry whipped out his wand from where he had stuffed it up his sleeve as he walked to the end of Privet Drive. It was dark and there wasn't a soul in sight. Furiously swiping at the tears that were streaming down his face, he paused for a moment, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. Feeling decidedly better, he looked around once more before sticking his wand out.

BANG!

Harry looked up from where he had had to roll to avoid being roadkill. The purple triple decker stood there silently, the gold lettering gleaming faintly by the light of the streetlamps far away. The door slid open and a young man jumped out. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency…" he noticed Harry. "Cor, ya seem to be making it a habit there, dontcha Harry?"

Harry got up grumbling and helped Stan Shunpike load his trunk and cage onto the bus. The Knight Bus had changed, the interior had been filled with chairs of different styles, sizes and age the last time he'd been on. Now it was filled with beds of varying designs. There was even a large four-poster in the back. Stan led him to an unoccupied new wrought iron near the front, right next to Ernie, the driver. Harry sat down and his Morfowl fluttered over, perching herself on a stand that had magically appeared. "Well, where to, young Harry?" asked Stan brightly. "Harry? Bless my soul, Mr Potter on my 'umble old bus again? Me thinks I is blessed sir!" Ernie turned around, grinning.

"WATCH THE ROAD!" yelled Harry and Stan in unison.

"Dumb ol' coot!", muttered Stan once they had managed to continue without murdering a couple of drunks, "So, Harry, what'll it be? Paris? Amsterdam? New York? Beijing? New Delhi? Hot chocolate?"

Harry tried to calm his thundering heart as Ernie wrestled with the wheel, narrowly avoiding a bypass construction site. He turned to Stan," The Leaky Cauldron this time, Stan. And no, thanks. I don't think I'd be able to keep it down."

Stan nodded happily and took the silver from Harry. "Right O, Ernie! Leaky Cauldron, and step on it!" There was a loud bang and Harry was thrown back against the head board. His owl disappeared only to come back, flapping her wings and looking far more dignified than had right to be in Harry's opinion. To the right, Harry heard something splattering against the floor of the bus and turned a faint shade of green as a chunk of half -digested meatloaf rolled over by the side of his bed. Just as he was sure he wouldn't be able to hold it in any longer, the bus screeched to a sudden halt, this time flattening him against the glass partition between him and Ernie.

Harry jumped out of the bus, hair in disarray, clothes scruffy but decidedly happy. His Morfowl had decided to turn a non-descript brown and shrunk in size before perching on his head. It was this strange sight that greeted Tom, the innkeeper when he peered over the counter.

"Good evening Tom, I'd like a room for the night please. I'll be leaving for Hogwarts in the morning, you see."

Tom smiled; a wide, toothless smile and gestured for Harry to follow him. As Harry followed the old innkeeper, he wondered what it meant, him storming out of the only place he could call his house after nearly killing the owner, his Uncle. He found he just could not be bothered about it. Happy to be finally free of the place, Harry walked into the room Tom had just opened the door to. It was an ordinary room, very clean with a bed against a wall, below a dark window, a table and chair and a small wardrobe in the corner. The floor was covered by a rug and a fire burned merrily in in the hearth.

"Should you require anything, Mr Potter, all you need do is ring the bell and someone will be up immediately. I trust the accommodation is suitable?" asked Tom in a kind voice.

Harry nodded, "Yes, very much so, Tom. Thanks."

Tom bid him a good night and left, closing the door behind him softly.

Harry looked to where his owl had settled herself on the perch by the table. She had tucked her head under a wing and appeared to be sleeping. He kicked his shoes off and fell onto the bed which was surprisingly soft and sighed heavily looking out the window. The sky was clear enough for him to see hundreds of stars, shining down on him as he lay. As he watched the stars, sleep finally overcame him.

* * *

Harry was woken up by the something poking his side. He was up in an instant thinking Aunt Petunia had grown tired of knocking and stepped inside. Taking in his surroundings, he suddenly remembered the events of last night. He was just about to fall back when another poke forced him to look down to where his owl had turned a beautiful snowy white. She hooted softly and Harry realized he had to get ready to leave if he wanted to make it to the Hogwarts Express in time.

He hurried through his morning ritual and went down for breakfast. Sitting at the counter, Harry feasted on sausages, bacon and eggs while sipping on coffee. It was delicious and Harry couldn't resist taking second helpings. Feeling comfortably full, he dropped his fork and sat back looking around the pub in interest. It seemed the crowd wouldn't be arriving for a while and the chairs and tables were flying around the place on their own accord, brooms sweeping the floor by themselves while mops skated across the room. The fireplace shuddered and a large amount of soot fell down to be immediately brushed away.

As Harry sat there taking in the unapologetic display of magic around the room, letting it envelope him. Tom came in to clear his plates away and seeing Harry sitting there, his face aglow, Tom smiled.

"Aye, it's a grand old site, isn't it? The Headmaster always helps me out when he drops in before opening hours. Fine man, he is."

Harry stiffened. Headmaster? What did Tom mean? The Headmaster of Hogwarts was _here_? Was he in trouble already? Had he killed Uncle Vernon? Were they going to expell him before he even started? No! He hadn't hit him that hard! Besides, the man was enormous! All that blubber ought to have saved him, oughtn't it….?

Harry shook his head violently, no. He was not going to dwell on it. If the Headmaster had been here to talk to him, he would have done so already which meant he wasn't here for him. Besides, based on what Tom had said about the Headmaster helping him when he dropped by, it seemed like a frequent occurrence. Harry climbed the stairs back to his room and looked around, he couldn't spot his trunk and his owl's cage. Figuring Tom had taken them downstairs for him, Harry turned to go back down. As soon as he reached the foot of the stairs, he stopped short.

There was a tall man with a sweeping white beard that had been tucked into a belt. His white hair was equally long and gave the impression of great age. The wizard (for Harry was sure he wasn't a non-magical person) wore startling robes of midnight blue with twinkling stars and planets embroidered in silver and gold around the edges. On his head was a large, pointed hat of the same colour with a golden tassel swinging from the tip. Brilliant blue eyes peered through half- moon glasses that were perched precariously at the tip of a long, crooked nose. The ancient wizard seemed to be chuckling at something Tom had just said.

Harry took a step back. The wizard was odd. Granted all wizards were odd, this one was odd for a wizard. He stood there in the shadows, undecided when a very familiar figure came up to the strange wizard. Professor McGonagall seemed to be in a temper from the look on her face and apparently the wizard decided it would be better not to keep her waiting for he bid a hurried goodbye to Tom before following the irate Professor out the door. Harry waited a couple of moments and when he deemed it safe enough, he walked out.

Tom was there, chuckling while wiping a glass as customers filed in. Seeing Harry, he waved and said, "Your trunk and cage are over there by the fire, sir. I took the liberty of bringing them down for you as I assumed you would want to leave directly you finished breakfast." Harry nodded, thanking him politely as he paid the innkeeper a few gold coins. A though struck him.

"Tom, what would be the best way to reach.." Harry pulled out his ticket and stared, "er.. platform Nine and three quarters?" Tom chuckled.

"I'd take the Knight Bus to King's Cross. The Floo won't take you any closer than the Owl Post Office about five blocks down. At least this way you'll be able to get down close to it."

Harry sighed. Great! Now he'd have to endure another ride in that ridiculous contraption. Or did he? He still had time, maybe he could take a taxi. "Tom, do you think I could get some of my galleons converted to Muggle money? I'd rather take a cab", he said.

Tom nodded, "Normally, you would have to go down to Gringotts. However, I happen to have some Muggle money that was all some Squibs had on them. I could exchange them with you if you'd like, sir?"

Relieved, Harry handed Tom some galleons and took the money in return. It was considerable. He figured he could get to Surrey if he wished. Tom helped Harry get his trunk into the boot of the cab. The cage with his jet black owl safely ensconced inside was riding with him in the back. The driver kept shooting curious glances at the black haired kid with bright green eyes, badly banged up glasses and an _owl_ of all things throughout the ride to King's Cross. Harry ignored him while the owl glared at him balefully.

Once he got off, Harry handed the entire wad of notes Tom had given him to the driver whose eyes widened. He held the money up to the light before grinning and tipping his cap to Harry in thanks.

Harry found a trolley and made his way to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, his trunk and owl causing him to draw more than few curious glances. He reached Platform Nine and looked around. There wasn't anything here. He walked a bit further up. Platform Ten appeared and he stopped, confused. He checked his ticket again. It said Platform Nine and Three Quarters alright. A female voice announced that the ten thirty would depart from Platform Nine. Harry panicked. He barely had thirty minutes to get onto the platform! He tried to think about it logically. Nine and Three Quarters was between Nine and Ten, that meant that the Platform might be between Platforms Nine and Ten as well.

Looking around, he spotted a pillar about three fourths away from Platform Nine, between Nine and Ten. Not having a better idea, he pushed his trolley in the direction. Before he could take more than a couple of steps, however, what seemed like a caravan of trolleys cut right across him. Harry gaped. Each trolley was pushed by a red headed boy and one of them even had an owl in a cage! He was followed by twins with identical trolleys and clothes, even! After them, came a smaller boy, also pushing a trolley followed by a matronly woman with a smaller girl by her side. The girl seemed to be sniffing quietly.

"Alright, boys, line up, we haven't all that much time left seeing as someone decided to leave their packing till the last minute", said the red headed woman, giving the smallest boy a stern glance. The boy in question flushed and for a moment, Harry was very interested to see if the hair and face would match. Just then, however, the woman said briskly, "Percy, dear, why don't you go first?"

Percy, the tall, lanky boy with the owl in horn rimmed glasses nodded and ran full tilt at the columns Harry had been thinking of investigating. Harry stared, thinking the boy had gone insane. He waited for the crash and wondered why none of his family seemed to be stopping him. Just as Percy was about to reach the column however, a group of people moved in front of Harry's line of sight and Harry twisted impatiently, trying to see what had happened to Percy. The boy had vanished! Harry hadn't hear the sound of a crash and was sure there was something odd going on here.

He turned to the twins who had started running together, laughing and racing each other in the same direction Percy had run in before he disappeared. A different group of people moved behind the twins, effectively blocking them from view. Harry cursed, why didn't the damn people just cover his eyes and be done with it? He wasn't about to be disappointed again.

He pushed his trolley up to where the woman was standing with the girl and boy. "Excuse me, could you tell me how to…er.. how to .." Harry gestured helplessly. Fortunately, the woman understood what he was trying to say. "How to get onto the platform?" Harry nodded gratefully.

"Oh, it's easy, dear. All you have to do is run straight at the wall there between the Platforms Nine and Ten. It's best to do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. You know, it's my son Ronald's first time too" she said kindly.

Harry thanked her and nodded awkwardly at Ronald. He turned to face the wall. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders, tightening his grip on the trolley. He charged.

This is lunacy, thought Harry as he ran wildly at what was almost certainly going to be a nasty and embarrassing crash in the middle of a crowded station. As he neared the wall, he closed his eyes and scrunched up his face, waiting for the pain. Instead he kept running. He opened his eyes to see that he had emerged sideways onto a large platform. There were dozens of witches and wizards milling around, laughing, talking excitedly. What drew his attention, however, was the large bright scarlet engine waiting on the tracks, steam rising out of it with _The Hogwarts Express_ stamped in gold.

As Harry stood there, smiling, there was a loud crash and he suddenly found himself on the ground, his head throbbing, spitting out feathers.

* * *

**A/N: First off, I'd like to thank everyone for their reviews, follows and favorites. I really do appreciate it. And, well, thanks! I'm a bit unsure of a name for Harry's Morfowl. Any suggestions? Also, let's see how many of you manage to guess who crashed into Harry!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **So I know this isn't my best chapter but for some reason it was very difficult to write. I'm not very happy with it and rewrote it twice. In the end I thought I'd just post it and have it out of the way. The next one will definitely be better!

* * *

**CHAPTER 7**

Harry spat out feathers from his mouth as he used his hands to push himself up. A loud groan startled him and he whipped around. It was then that he noticed who had crashed into him.

_The three had been arguing for quite a while. The smaller one was particularly furious at the fact that the other two thought him to be bluffing. He sat there, fuming as the two lumbered off to buy some sweets for the train. Seeing his two friends laugh as they made their purchases, he snapped and marched right out the platform through the wall leading to King's Cross, sans the trolley._

_ As soon as he was on the other side, he was caught up in the rush of a massive crowd of fifth graders as a train lined up at the platform. They seemed to be on a trip of sorts and he was carried a remarkable distance in their midst, all the while trying to wriggle out of the mass and step aside. In sudden panic, he looked up, desperate to see some sort of marking or sign post that would lead him back to the spot once he freed himself. Catching sight of a large number 10 sign on the wall, he breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed a little._

_Once the group was safely aboard, the boy huffed and straightened his clothes. He made his way back to the sign, ignoring the stares, and spotted a black haired boy with a beautiful dark owl on his trolley vanish at the face of a column. He smirked, well that was easy. He took off, running as fast as he could toward the column, fully prepared to gracefully accept the two oafs' praises and belittle their concern. Oh, he was going to enjoy it! That was about when he erupted on the other side and… crashed. _

The boy groaned, his eyes closed as he lay draped over Harry's trolley. Harry's trunk was on the floor and his Morfowl was trying to arrange her plumage, glaring at Harry and hooting indignantly while assuming a brilliant shade of red. Harry gave her an apologetic look as he turned to the boy on the floor. He was thin with a pointed face and blonde hair that was smoothed back, giving him a slightly prissy air. Judging by the clothes, he seemed to be well to do. The absurdly jarring dazed expression on his face made Harry let out a low chuckle. The boy's eyes flew open and he sat up at that, a scowl on his face.

"And just who do you think you are?" he asked haughtily while trying to scramble up.

Harry's chuckles subsided "I'm Harry, Harry Potter", he said casually while watching closely. He was well aware of the reaction that would elicit by now. The boy's eyes did the all too familiar flick to his scar as he paled. But beyond that, the boy did not display any untoward emotion.

"Well, Potter, my name is Draco Malfoy", said the boy sticking out his hand snootily. Harry couldn't help but be amused by the pale faced blonde as he brought his hand up for a quick shake.

"So, Malfoy, do you make it a habit of crashing into poor, unsuspecting…" Harry began when a hand descended on the other boy's shoulder.

"Imagine my surprise," said a low, cold voice, "when two of my son's friends came running to inform me that my son had wandered off into the muggle world unprotected and alone on a _bet._

Draco paled. The man was tall with the same white-blonde, albeit straight shoulder length hair and pointed features as Draco. His eyes were a cold grey and flickered with barely constrained anger. This had to be Draco's father, thought Harry.

"Father, I was just about to come find you," said Draco, recovering quickly with a glance at Harry. Harry narrowed his eyes, realizing what Draco was up to as he continued hurriedly, "I made a new friend and wanted him to meet you."

"Draco," said Mr Malfoy in a dangerous voice, "unless this inane drivel somehow jus.."

"Mr Malfoy", said Harry quietly and the tall man stopped, turning to him incredulously. Draco gave a small smirk.

"Mr Malfoy, my name is Harry Potter. I realize you do not know me but I'm afraid it's my fault that Draco here stepped out. We met and got to talking and I offered to show him the muggle world. I assure you I know my way around we were in no danger. I'm sorry that you were upset."

Harry said as innocently as he could with a smile. Mr Malfoy stare at him.

"Lucius Malfoy. Kindly refrain from such recklessness in the future, Mr Potter", said Mr Malfoy, Lucius, finally his voice still cold, "And it would be well if you boarded. The train should be starting momentarily" he added as a shrill whistle sounded.

Harry and Draco nodded and Harry started wheeling his trolley away. The two found Draco's trolley by two largish boys that Harry thought could not _possibly_ be dumber than they looked and were introduced as Crabbe and Goyle. Draco stayed back with an apologetic look at Harry and a whispered thanks. As he pushed on, Harry kept a look out for a large mane of unruly brown hair. He was just about to give up and climb in when he saw her along with her parents, close to the end of the train. Emma was brushing Hermione's head with a soft smile as Robert hugged her tightly.

A pang went through Harry as he watched the scene unfold. He could not recollect his parents. Sometimes when he was younger and lay curled up on his bed under the cupboard, lonely and cold, he would try very hard to remember them. At such times he would invariably hear a soft, lilting hum comforting and quieting before a flash of green that seemed to burn his eyes. As he watched, lost in his thoughts, Emma looked up and saw him, standing there. She gently nudged Hermione and pointed.

Hermione's face looked slightly relieved as she saw him and Harry quickly hitched a smile on to his face as he pushed his trolley forward. Crookshanks was the first to meet him as he jumped up from nowhere, landing on Harry's trunk. Harry's owl looked affronted that the blue-grey cat be allowed such freedom and gave Harry a rather betrayed look.

"I was almost afraid something happened and you didn't come!" said Hermione as soon as she got close.

"Hello Hermione," Harry smiled, "Good morning Mr and Mrs Granger" he said to the two adults who had followed.

"Good morning, Harry. All set?" asked Robert with a smile of his own.

"You seem to have cut it very fine, Harry. Hermione was almost beside herself with worry" said Emma, smirking with a look at her daughter.

Hermione simply made a face.

"Come along, Harry, we should probably look for seats" she said.

Once they had bid the adult Grangers goodbye and Harry had assured them his Morfowl would deliver letters as often as they wanted, the two boarded the train.

They made their way through the corridor, looking for an empty booth and found one a couple of doors down at the very end of the train. Harry heaved a sigh and pulled the door open for Hermione and helped her stow her trunk. Once he had taken care of his, he fell back on to the soft cushioned seat and looked out. He watched Mr and Mrs Granger vanish as they walked into a wall and turned to find Hermione studying him with a singularly intense expression.

"What's the matter?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"I don't know _just_ how dumb you think I am but when exactly did you think I would find out about the Dursleys?" she demanded.

Harry looked at her a moment. He should have known he couldn't have kept it a secret for long. Certainly not from Hermione at least. She was too smart for her own good.

As the silence prolonged, Hermione's eyes flashed and Harry had a feeling he wasn't going to like it. He was just about to say something when the door slid open Draco Malfoy sauntered in.

"There you are," he drawled," figures you'd be in the last carriage I looked."

Harry cast a glance at Hermione, trying to convey that he'd talk about it later and turned to Draco.

"Hello, Draco" he said simply.

Draco's glance strayed to Hermione and Harry remembered himself, "Oh, Hermione this is Draco Malfoy. I met him on the platform. Draco, this is Hermione Granger, my friend."

The two nodded at each other warily. She was obviously muggleborn. That much was clear from her clothes and Draco would have considered her beneath his notice if it hadn't been for Harry. The fact that Harry Potter had introduced her as his friend gave him pause and made him consider how he ought to handle it. While he was convinced muggle borns were inferior, he didn't mind them so much. Better not to antagonize Harry by belittling his friends at the very beginning, he finally decided

At the same time Hermione quickly sized up the strange new boy. She didn't have a good feeling about him somehow. He seemed polite enough, a little spoiled, perhaps but something was off. She shrugged it off as just being something she was not used to. It was probably the blatant air of wizardishness as he seemed the part, right from his robes to his demeanour. Yes, that was probably it.

"Why don't you sit here?" said Harry, gesturing to the seat beside him.

Draco gave a small frown and shook his head.

"No, thanks. I'm about four carriages ahead with Crabbe and Goyle. I just wanted to thank you for helping me out there and well.. thanks " replied Draco, a little awkwardly.

"I'll see you at the Sorting then" and with a final nod to Hermione, Draco left, the door closing behind him on its own.

Seeing Hermione's curious look, Harry shook his head.

"It was nothing, really. I helped him with his stuff on the platform" he said easily.

Just as Hermione was going to launch into the unceremoniously abandoned topic, the door slid open again and a tall, gangly boy with flaming red hair appeared.

"Would you mind if I sat here? It's just that everywhere else is full", he said.

Harry recognised him from the station. He was the boy starting at Hogwarts that the red haired woman who had helped him had introduced. Roland, something.

Harry looked questioningly at Hermione who gave a small shrug as if to say she was alright with it.

"Of course, here, I'll help you with your trunk."

Soon, the three were settled and Harry let out his Morfowl. She immediately fluttered to his shoulder and gave him a rather hard nip.

"Ouch! Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I should have let you out sooner. Happy?" mumbled Harry, rubbing his ear. The bird gave a satisfied hoot before tucking her head under her wing and promptly falling asleep.

The red haired boy watched with wide eyes.

"Er… is that what I think it is?" he asked Harry hesitantly.

Before Harry could answer, however, the owl quickly straightened and changed to a dazzling electric blue before rapidly cycling through a multitude of colours.

"Wow" said the boy softly, staring at the now pink with black accented owl on Harry's shoulder, "They're extremely rare! Where'd you find it?"

At this, Harry heard a small cough and grinned. "First of all, Roland, this is Hermione, my friend. Hermione, this is Roland. I met him on the platform" he said.

"You seem to have been quite busy on that platform" said Hermione dryly as she nodded at the boy, "pleased to meet you, Roland."

The boy blinked, "It's Ronald, actually, everyone calls me Ron, but likewise. And, oh.. well I never did get your name, sorry."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten. I'm Harry Potter" said Harry idly.

Ron gasped. His eyes flicked. His jaw dropped.

Here we go, thought Harry wearily.

* * *

The atmosphere for the rest of the journey was a little awkward. Harry had found Ronald Weasly loud, uncouth and distinctly annoying. He had all but ignored him and spent his time reading quietly with Hermione. Ron had tried hard to engage the two in conversation and Hermione patiently replied in the interests of civility but Harry had stubbornly stuck to monosyllables and eventually, Ron had subsided.

As they neared evening, a Prefect came around announcing that they would have to change into their school robes and get ready as they would be arriving shortly. Harry and Ron left the booth, giving Hermione privacy to change and Hermione later offered the same courtesy to the two. When the train slowed and finally came to a halt, Ron grabbed his trunk and almost sprinted out of the carriage. Hermione glared at Harry.

"What? You have to admit he was annoying" said Harry defensively.

"Maybe, but you'd have to admit you were behaving very badly indeed! And what was that when he asked you if…"

"Oh, look at that man! He's enormous! Do you think he's a giant?" exclaimed Harry, pointing.

Hermione scowled but dropped it.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** It's fantastic to see so many people appreciating my story and I want to thank everyone that reviewed, followed and favourited Two Sides. Thanks a lot! You guys keep me motivated. Anyway, I'll leave you to it.

* * *

**CHAPTER 8**

Hermione looked up. The man was enormous! He was easily about eight feet tall and about half that across with wild, tangled hair that grew down and blended with a fearsome beard. Very little could be seen of his face except for a set of dark, beetle like eyes. She nearly shuddered. This was definitely a man she would not want to cross. She wondered if it was magic that made him so.

Harry had seen the man from afar and did not really care for a closer study but even he had to admit the man was intimidating. He briefly considered that an acquaintance with walking mountains would undoubtedly prove advantageous and decided to give it a try sometime .

As the first years milled around in front of the man, there was a loud booming. Hermione jumped before realizing it was the giant yelling for attention.

"Alrigh' there, firs' years? Welcome ter Hogwarts! My name's Hagrid and I'm the Keeper o' Keys and groundskeeper for Hogwarts. Now, we'll be gettin' yer lot to the castle across this here lake. Bit o' tradition tha'. Make sure yer not more an' three a boat and be very still. If someone falls overboard, well, the giant squid will have yeh then", he gave a deep chuckle here.

There was a sudden panicked murmur among the gathered first years and everyone looked around wildly to see if they could make out a giant squid anywhere. Hagrid didn't seem to notice. As the giant walked to the edge of the lake, a boat glide up silently and waited. Hagrid beckoned to the closest group of first years, huddled together. They quaked as the giant called them but moved forward slowly. One by one they climbed into the boat and the boat glided off smoothly. It went a small distance and stopped, facing forwards as another boat came up to the edge of the lake to where Hagrid was standing. The others soon got the idea and there was a mad scramble as they tried to line themselves up with their friends.

Harry and Hermione simply stood there. There wasn't anyone the two particularly wanted with them and they decided to just wait it out as someone would come up eventually. Pretty soon, there was a large number of boats floating gently in the still waters of the lake as the sky darkened. When it was no longer possible to see, lights flared out on each boat as lanterns came to life. Harry and Hermione had hung back, waiting for a third person to join them when they suddenly realized that the small group of four were the only ones left apart from them. Three of the four detached from the group and made their way toward the waiting boat , the third very reluctantly turned and made his way to the two, his red hair seeming like it were on fire in the flickering light of the lanterns.

* * *

Hagrid was the last to get into a boat and as the waiting first years watched, his boat sped silently to the front of the neatly arrayed boats of the excited newcomers. Hagrid was large enough to take up the entire boat and had a… _wait_... was that a flowery pink umbrella in his hands?

They weren't given much time to consider the fact when a sudden below of "ONWARDS!", the boats started to move. The cool night air and occasional splash of water as the boats sped up was exhilarating and Harry enjoyed himself. Hermione, on the other hand, had closed her eyes and was muttering the list of poisons that could be countered using a basic Purging Potion, looking distinctly green. Ron was sitting at the back, silent for once. Soon, they neared a curve and excited whispers broke out among the students at the front. "Hogwarts!", one not so low whisper reached Harry and he shook Hermione, saying they were nearly there.

As they finally passed the curve, they caught their first glimpse of Hogwarts. It was a magnificent sight. The sky was clear enough for a few stars to peek out over a grand castle complete with towers and turrets with lights blazing from the windows, warm and bright. It seemed indescribably elegant and dignified, as it sat there, the bright lights reflected in the water below. Harry was still, watching silently as they drew close. It was one sight he was sure he would remember for the rest of his life.

Once they reached the other side, Hagrid jumped out and held up a huge lantern for the children to see better. The students were soon out of the boats and on firm ground and quite a few sighs of relief were heard in the quiet of the evening. Gesturing to follow, Hagrid set off on a winding path to the front of the castle.

"So, what do you reckon the Sorting's going to be like?" asked a sandy haired boy to their front as they trudged up the path. Hermione perked up.

"Oh, but that's just it, isn't it? The secrecy surrounding the Sorting is a time honoured tradition, observed by generations upon generations of witches and wizards. It's quite exciting!" she said, her face shining.

Ron, who had been hanging back up until he heard the sandy haired boy speak of the Sorting, forgot all about being snubbed by Harry Potter and piped up.

"_I've _heard it's going to be crazy tough. Fred and George, that's my brothers, said we had to fight a troll and that the way we go about subduing the thing indicates which house we'll be sorted into."

A number of first years stopped and turned uneasily at this, a few even going pale. That was until a high, clear voice followed a snort of derision.

"Honestly, Weasley if you believed that I think they might just sort you into Hufflepuff. You'll need all the loyalty you can get to hold a conversation beyond 'Hello'!"

Ron flushed and turned angrily to Draco Malfoy who was standing a little in the front, a smirk on his face. There were quite a few sniggers among the bunch but they died relatively quickly with a look at Ron's face.

"Maybe, Malfoy but I'd rather go there than Slytherin! House of the spoiled, slimy haired gits, which is what it'll be once you ooze in!"

Malfoy's face darkened, " Watch it, Weasel or I'l….."

"Yeh won't be doin' nothin', you won' ", a gruff voice came from somewhere about four feet above Draco, who gulped and turned back around. "Now, if yer lot is finished with yer lil' picnic, the castle is that way." And with that, Hagrid turned and marched up the remaining distance to the imposing portcullis.

A much quieter group of first years followed the giant man and entered the castle. They found themselves in a small hall with a massive set of double doors in front of them. Two gargantuan statues of winged boars carrying spears flanked either side of the doors and seemed almost life like in their detail. The fist years bundled together and a tall, severe looking woman came striding into view. Harry had no difficulty recognizing her.

"Good evening and welcome, all of you, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I am Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress. Now, prior to your participation in our start of the term feast, you will be sorted into your Houses. There are four; Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Gryffindor, in no particular order. While you are here, your House will be like your family. You may assist your family through your actions- successes will gain points, misdemeanours will lose them. At the end of the year, the House with the most points wins the House Cup. Any questions? Very well, let us proceed. Follow me and kindly keep in line."

Professor McGonagall touched the double doors and they swung open.

Harry was stunned. The doors opened into one of the largest halls he had ever seen. There were four long tables with benches on either side filled with students stretching from end to end with a raised table facing the Entrance Hall, for the staff. The entire Hall was lit with ornate lanterns that floated in mid air, suffusing the place in a soft, warm glow. Someone pointed up and Harry looked up. The famous enchanted ceiling he had read about. It was supposed to be charmed to depict the outside sky and it filled him with wonder. Was this what he could achieve with magic? Would he be able to do all this once he was trained? Suddenly, all his control of his magic, all the effect, all the joy he felt when his magic responded to him felt inadequate, insignificant compared to this spectacle of…there was no other word for it, _magic. _He _would_ study, he _would_ learn and he _would _realize all this and more with his magic one day.

The soft tinkling of a spoon against glass drew him out of his reverie and he looked up to see Professor McGonagall standing next to a rickety, three legged stool with an ancient, very battered, very worn, black pointed hat. Behind them, in a large seat in the centre of the staff table with flowing white hair and a beard that was tucked neatly into a belt was a tall and very old wizard. Perched on his shoulder was a magnificent bird whose stunning red and gold plumage seemed to be smouldering, a phoenix! Brilliant blue eyes peered through half- moon glasses and rested briefly on Harry before turning slightly as Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was engaged in conversation by a pale faced, greasy haired man dressed entirely in black.

. Harry and the rest waited patiently, expecting the Professor to speak, however, the hat suddenly shuddered, a tear at the brim of the hat forming and splitting wide open. Two eyes formed out of the folds in the top and it shook itself violently before starting to sing.

_Oh you may not think me pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be._

You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!

The hat finished and bowed to each of the tables before turning still once again. The Great Hall burst into applause as the older students jumped to their feet, clapping hard.

"Now, when I call my name, you will step forward and place the hat on your head. Once you are sorted, you will join your new House at their respective table", called Professor McGonagall once the applause died down.

Harry blinked. All they had to do was try the Sorting Hat on? He was relieved! Although he had pretended not to be interested when Hermione and the others were discussing the Sorting, he had been worried and listening carefully for anything that might have helped. More than anything he was worried that the one friend he had, his first friend at that, would be separated from him. And although he had promised they would meet every day after classes, it wouldn't be the same. They had spent the summer studying together, making notes and to not share classes after that would be unacceptable. He had been determined to do all in his power to make sure he was sorted into the same House as Hermione. It seemed easier now; all he had to do was convince this Hat thing.

* * *

Professor McGonagall had been reading the names off a long scroll. The student in question had stepped forward, trembling and sat on the rickety stool. Professor McGonagall had then placed the Hat on his or her head. After seemingly random time intervals, the Hat would split and the gash that served as a mouth would yell the name of the House. The House in question would erupt in raucous applause and a visibly relieved and smiling student would be added to their ranks. After the first few times, Harry had stopped paying attention. Hermione had grabbed his arm and was slowly squeezing the life out of it as her name drew closer-they were going alphabetically. Suddenly, Professor McGonagall's voice rang out:

"Granger Hermione"

Hermione gave a small start and her hold on Harry tightened momentarily before it slipped off. She turned to Harry and he gave her a reassuring look. She nodded gratefully and taking a deep breath, stepped forward, her head high. The Hat was on her head for a brief while before it's slit widened:

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Professor McGonagall pulled the Hat off and gave the beaming Hermione a small smile as she hurried off to join the whooping and clapping table on the furthest left. She settled down and immediately saved a seat looking straight at Harry and then at the empty seat meaningfully. Harry simply looked and turned away, focussing on the Hat now.

Soon, it was Draco's turn and Harry watched with some amusement as the blonde sauntered up to the Hat. Professor McGonagall simply raised an eyebrow and placed the hat on his head. The Hat was a silent a moment and Harry could see Draco pale under the large brim. He wondered what was going on. His musings were cut short, however, when the Hat abruptly announced:

"SLYTHERIN!"

Draco took off the Hat looking smug and relieved at the same time as he made his way to the table furthest to the right. Harry swallowed, getting more and more nervous as Nott , Patil, Patil and Parkinson were summoned and sorted. And suddenly, there it was.

"Potter Harry"

A frenzy of whispers burst out. Many students turned and stared right at him, unmindful of the fact that it was rude. Some even stood up on the benches to get a better look. Even Professor Dumbledore seemed to sit a little straighter.

Harry took a shaky breath before resolving himself. He looked up, his green eyes set, a detached calm spreading through him as he pushed his emotions aside and focussed on his purpose. He walked slowly up to the Hat and nodded politely as Professor McGonagall lowered it on to his head. The Hat was so large that it slipped past his ears and fell down to his nose, effectively blinding him. A small voice spoke.

"Ah, what have we here? Interesting, very interesting to be sure. It appears we have an impasse of sorts, Mr Potter. You are intelligent, yes, very much so. As much as your friend Miss Granger in fact and that, is truly impressive. Ravenclaw would suit you well. But speaking of Miss Granger, I see you are determined to be sorted into the same House as she. Loyalty worthy of the truest of Hufflepuffs. And the cunning? Ah, the ambition, the thirst for power, it is all in here, awaiting the opportunity to rise, to spread itself, and it simply begs Slytherin. I do believe you would rise in all of them Mr Potter, yes, without a doubt."

Harry clenched his teeth, "And Gryffindor?"

There was a slight pause before the Hat spoke again and this time there was a definite note of sadness in its voice.

"The noble House of Brave Gryffindor is perhaps the least suitable for you, Mr Potter. Your head is open to me and I can tell you indubitably that you will not do better than Slytherin, for that is where your true self would thrive, your potential would be realized", the hat said.

Harry sat there, wondering what he could do to convince the Hat otherwise. He was interrupted by the Hat continuing.

" However, it pains me to admit that not so long ago, a boy, not dissimilar to yourself entrusted himself to me, relying on my skills, my knowledge and my experience to place him where he may realize his true potential. I Sorted him where he would advance the most, achieve the most even though I had a fair idea of the end and the cost was never worth the satisfaction of my fulfilling my true purpose one more time, Mr Potter and it never will."

Harry listened, his mind calm, thoughts focussed on all the Hat had to say. He understood.

"Then sort me into Gryffindor", he said quietly.

The Hat seemed to sigh.

"I am afraid it is not that easy, Mr Potter. You see, as I have said, I have a duty. A duty to sort you where you would do best and I truly believe that you would do well in any of the three Houses. The one is not right and you would not fit, Mr Potter. The one that is unfortunately….GRYFFINDOR!"

The Hat shouted the last word out loud for the entire school to hear and as Harry was about to pull the Hat off with shaking hands, a small voice spoke in his ear;

"But then, I might be wrong, Mr Potter. Let us hope I am."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:**Thanks for all the reviews! I think some of you might have been getting a little impatient with the pace of the story. I'm afraid that was deliberate since I wanted to develop the characters better and have it appear naturally. Anyway, now that we're in Hogwarts, the story should pick up a little pace. Also, I know I've asked before, but could you suggest a good name for Harry's Morfowl? One of the suggestions was Kronos and I think I might go with it unless you think there's something better. Happy reading!

* * *

**CHAPTER 9**

_"GRYFFINDOR!"_

The silence that had enveloped the Great Hall since Harry Potter- The Boy Who Lived had sat on a rickety old stool with a battered and torn hat on his head held for a moment, but just a moment. And then it was pandemonium.

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers and a mass of supporters swarmed the steps to the podium as Harry stepped off and hoisted him up. The twins were on a roll having used the rush as cover to set off some truly spectacular, if rude, fireworks. Even Professor McGonagall's remonstrations seemed half hearted as she attempted to regain control and establish some semblance of order. Quite a few of the older students even swore they had seen her smile. Harry, however, noticed none of this. He barely acknowledged the mass of hands holding him up or the calling of his name. He was disturbed. He had been told that the House he had been sorted into could be the worst possible one for him, where he might not develop the skills and character to be truly great and he had refused to even consider it. He wasn't sure he was very happy about it and he was determined to take steps to ensure it didn't happen again.

As control was re-established and the Sorting continued, Harry eased himself into the seat Hermione had saved for him. As various members of his new house leaned in to congratulate and welcome him to the House of the Lions, they found that Harry had a quick smile and spoke warmly but quietly. Hermione was too excited and tired after the long day to pay any attention to the fact that Harry's eyes had their usual cold, calculating look in them. Once the first few rounds of introductions were out of the way, Harry finally leaned back and Hermione immediately bent forward, inordinately pleased that her best friend had been sorted into the same house.

After that, the two were engrossed in a discussion with some of the older members of the House and hardly paid any attention to the Sorting. Only when their table roared and a whole bunch of red-haired boys of varying ages leapt to their feet did Harry and Hermione look up again. Ronald Weasley made his way to their table, a proud look on his face. As the Gryffindors moved up along the bench to make place for their newest addition, a gap appeared right next to Harry. Ron looked none too happy about it when the seat was pointed out to him and cast a quick look down the benches to check for more pleasant alternatives. Finding none, he walked over with a resigned look.

Harry nodded coolly as the boy slid in next to him. Ron jerked his head in response and Harry had hoped that was that but Hermione, who had been watching the exchange through narrowed eyes, jumped in.

"Good to see you again, Ron! It's so nice that you're in Gryffindor with us, I suppose we'll be seeing a lot of each other now. I wonder what our classes will be like? I was just talking to Alicia who's in her third year and she said that they were incredible. She's muggleborn too but she said that it didn't make any difference and that muggleborns didn't learn any slower, nor were they weaker in any way and I must say that's a relief! I was quite worried about that. Anyway, I'm looking forward to everything very much! It's just so exciting, isn't it _Harry?_ "

All this was said in a very fast, business-like tone and Ron's processing took a couple of seconds to catch up with the end of the long-winded dialogue which was more than enough time for _Harry_ to narrow his eyes at Hermione's rather smug expression before turning back to Ron who by this time had just realised that he was about to embark on another verbal catastrophe with Harry Potter.

"Yes, it should be quite fun. Although to be fair, Hermione seems way more excited than I could possibly be. Besides, I heard that a lot of them are pretty tough starting out. That reminds me, Percy, Hermione was very interested in the castle earlier on. Since you're a Prefect now, perhaps you could tell her a little more about the castle? One of the older students I spoke to said that the stairs cases actually moved and that we had to be careful! Imagine that, _Hermione!"_

Percy, a tall, lanky red head (obviously a Weasley) had spent quite a while explaining to Harry exactly how important the duties of a Hogwarts Prefect were. Especially with a castle as large as this with the student population spread out and was happy to launch into a lengthy discourse about the same with someone who was so obviously appreciative of the old castle. Of course, he assumed it to mean she was interested in the _rules_ surrounding various sections and wings of the castle but Harry was happy to let that particular misunderstanding slide.

Harry turned to examine his plate, which appeared to be made of gold, or at least seemed to be a golden colour, there was a small but distinct upward turn to the corners of his mouth as Hermione valiantly sat through Percy's…well, Perciness. Ron was simply relieved to be spared a conversation with Harry and quickly turned to strike up a discussion on the latest Quidditch League match with whoever would listen.

The Sorting was finally over and the Hat stilled for the last time that night. The caretaker, a nasty looking Mr Filch, came in and took the Hat and stool away, a cat running beside his feet. Everyone turned to the podium once again as the last vestiges of chatter died away. In the silence that followed, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry rose and surveyed the Great Hall through those brilliant, piercing blue eyes.

"Welcome to Hogwarts! We find ourselves at the dawn of yet another year of magical learning. However, there is a time for speeches and there is a time for feasts and I believe the latter is more apropos. Tuck in."

Dishes suddenly appeared on the tables. Magnificent roasts, side dishes of potatoes and mushrooms, you name it. Ron quickly began grabbing from every plate within reach and most of the others followed suit. Hermione cast a disgusted glance in his direction before taking small portions of chicken and salad on her own plate. The goblets filled with a peculiar looking liquid and Harry tentatively took a sip. He almost spewed it back out. Pumpkin juice! Who on earth drank pumpkin juice? Looking around, he spotted a jug of water and stuck with it for the duration of the meal. As the feast progressed, more dishes appeared to replace the empty ones and Harry idly wondered where it all came from. He hoped it was some kind of a spell or charm. That would come in handy, he figured.

After Harry had eaten his fill, he looked around the table, slightly drowsy from all the food and the long day and his eyes caught Draco Malfoy's. The pale blond was seated at the Slytherin table, apparently finished, and staring right at Harry, an unreadable expression on his face. On realising he was caught, he merely turned his head slightly, breaking eye contact. Harry's eyes moved on and danced over the staff table. The giant was there, eating like there was no tomorrow beside a short witch with frizzy hair and a hat covered in vines. Next to her was a twitchy little man in a brilliant purple turban that looked out of place on such a small head. The man flinched at the smallest of things and had a shifty look in his eye. In fact, in the short time that Harry's eyes had lingered on him, the turbaned wizard had jerked, upset his goblet and twitched incessantly.

Before Harry could move on, the last remnants of the food vanished from the plates (a muffled 'Oiphf' was heard from the general vicinity of a certain red-head whose mouth was disgustingly full) and desert magically appeared. It was the same as before and Harry sat back after demolishing a large helping of treacle tarts and apple pie. Now he was beyond drowsy and wished he hadn't eaten so much. Blinking furiously to keep sleep from taking over, he turned once again to the Head table as Albus Dumbledore rose once again.

* * *

"Harry! HARRY!"

Harry jerked up and looked around wildly, his magic surging to his subconscious call. Hermione ignored the fluttering caused by his magic as she hissed.

"For heaven's sake, wake up! You've slept through Professor Dumbledore's entire welcoming speech! It's time to leave now, come on, the prefects are supposed to escort us to our dorms."

Harry was up in an instant. He leapt out of his seat and grabbed Hermione's hand, pulling her along to where Percy was waiting impatiently with his new batch mates.

"Finally, now, as I was saying, Hogwarts can be confusing for first years and I would advise you to follow instructions. I will lead you to the House Common Room from where you will be shown your dorms. If you will now follow me, we will proceed to your new house."

Percy turned and set off at a brisk pace and most of the students who had gotten used to his long winded talk at the table were momentarily confused by the abrupt end and scrambled to keep the Prefect in sight.

As they climbed a flight of stairs, Harry stared at the portraits. Although he had read about them in _Hogwarts; A History _it was something else entirely to see them _alive._ Well, not alive, no, he reflected, but interesting none the less. Beside him Hermione too gazed at the portraits in awe and he could see she wished she could stop and talk to them.

The trip to the common room took them over dozens of stairs, past corridors containing the most lurid tapestries and stoic suits of armour before they finally came to a stop in front of large portrait of an exceedingly fat lady. As Harry later learned, she was _called_ the Fat Lady. Turning at the foot of the portrait, Percy addressed the first years.

"This is the entrance to your Common Room, the Fat Lady requires that you provide her with the correct password before being admitted in. Be warned, if you forget the password, you will be forced to remain outside until someone who does know the password appears. The password for this week happens to be 'Chocolate Cauldrons'.

The last was directed at the watching Fat Lady. She raised an impressively large hand and waved them in as the portrait swung open revealing a large circular hole in the wall. The first years clambered in behind their prefect and there were many stumbles and a few curses as the drowsy children clambered through the hole.

Harry, however, was wide awake and noticed a tall blonde haired boy slip past the group and head out the portrait.

The Common Room was cozy with a large fire crackling in the hearth and a jumbled assortment of comfortable armchairs, couches, tables and chairs dotting the room. The boys and girls were shown to their individual dorms and Harry headed up to find his Morfowl sitting on a pillow on one of the four poster beds. On seeing Harry, she fluttered up to him and gave an affectionate nip before taking off and heading to the Owlery where all owls belonging to students resided. "Good bye, girl," said Harry softly and reminded himself that he still had to find a suitable name for his beloved pet.

Harry's trunk was at the base of his bed and his clothes had been neatly arranged in a small wardrobe next to his bed. Harry looked around and nodded to the half- asleep boys who were eyeing their beds longingly before changing into pyjamas and jumping in. As soon as Harry's head hit the pillow, he was fast asleep.

* * *

The next day dawned, clear and bright and Harry woke up, momentarily confused as to where he was. Grabbing his glasses from the bedside table, put them on, the sudden clarity helping him recognise the first year dorm of the Gryffindors of Hogwarts. He washed up and got ready for the day, pulling on his school robes which now held a small insignia depicting a roaring griffin below the Hogwarts crest. Harry was the first one up and seeing the rest still asleep, Harry decided to head down to the grounds for a while before breakfast.

Coming down the stairs, Harry was unsurprised to see Hermione in an armchair in front of the fire reading a book. She was dressed and even had a small bag containing books by her side. Hermione was an early riser after all. He cleared his throat. Hermione continued reading the book and ignored him. "Hermione?" he said quietly. She continued to read, unaffected.

Harry rolled his eyes. Suddenly, the book slipped from Hermione's fingers and soared right into Harry's waiting hand. Hermione hastily stifled a squeal when she saw who it was and glared at an unrepentant Harry.

"It's early and we have some time. I was thinking of exploring the grounds before breakfast. Would you like to come?," he asked.

Hermione considered it for a moment before shaking her head.

"I'm not too keen on running around outside in the chilly morning air," she said. "And neither should you," she added as she saw Harry move toward the hole after depositing her book on the table next to her.

Harry stopped. "The library, perhaps? In an institution this large, the library would be magnificent."

Hermione got to her feet and began packing her books in her bag. Harry almost smiled. It was so easy.

"Come on," she said briskly as she pulled Harry out of the portrait hole. Once outside, she stopped and turned to the Fat Lady but Harry beat her to it.

"I know the way; I asked one of the older prefects last night. Come on."

The two first years made their way to the library, occasionally stopping to ask for directions from the portraits that lined the walls. Soon enough they were standing outside the library. Just as they were stepping in, a tall vulture like woman with a golden pince nez dangling from a beaded chain around her neck emerged from behind a large table.

"And just where do you think you're going?" she asked in a sharp voice.

"Um..the library? Aren't the first years permitted to use the library?" asked Hermione, a little afraid of the harridan-esque glare she was at the receiving end of.

The woman glared at her as if trying to find some sign of deceit. Finally she said without softening her gaze, "Library is off limits from ten in the evening to eight. Do not let me catch you trying to sneak inside the library again, do you hear me?"

Hermione and Harry nodded mutely. With a final glare the vulture woman stalked off inside. Hermione sniffed. "She could have been a little nicer about it. I mean we're first years! Honestly, how are we supposed to know?"

Harry agreed quietly.

"Shall we go back to the common room then?" he asked.

"No, let's go down to the grounds. I could do with some fresh air. Besides, it isn't all that early now."

* * *

The two spent a happy half hour wandering about the extensive grounds, enjoying the early dew that painted the tips of the leaves and grass a different colour as the sun steadily rose. The sun rising over the lake was a beautiful sight and they watched in silence as the bright rays of the sun showed them their first glimpse of Hogwarts in all its glory.

As they walked back, Harry was glad he had paid attention to Percy, however reluctantly. Even if it all that came in use was the little tidbit that the library opened only at eight.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Hallo! Sorry for the slight delay. Lot going on in college and work after. Anyway, there's a bit of a leap at the end of this chapter. Well, I say bit but it's more like four years and starts again at the summer holidays after the fourth year. It's because I've now managed to establish the characters as well as I'd liked and fifth years my favourite! The years in between follow the canon story line. Just try and imagine them with a Voldemort instead of a Harry so you won't be too surprised.

That being said, if there are any suggestions, opinions, comments even, please review or PM me if you'd like a reply. I promise to get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!

* * *

**CHAPTER 10**

Breakfast at the Great Hall was a lively affair, especially on the first day of term. There were witches excitedly comparing copies of the latest _Witch Weekly _, wizards discussing the progress of their favourite Quidditch teams, muggleborns catching up with their magical friends, Ravenclaws excitedly quizzing the Professors about their days' classes, Gryffindors being their usual, boisterous selves while Slytherin looked on in disdain as Hufflepuffs walked all over the Hall chatting with friends from different houses.

Hermione was enjoying all the bustle and activity as she ate a bit of toast. On her side Harry was slowly chewing on his breakfast of sausages. To her left sat that timid little boy she had seen on the platform with a rather severe looking woman with a stuffed vulture perched on a hat. He seemed nice enough, if terribly shy. She looked up the table and spotted her batch mates. She wondered if she could remember all their names. There was the timid boy; Neville Longbottom, one of the twins; Padma or Parvati Patil, she wasn't sure which, Lavender Brown, Alice Culpepper next to her, Ronald Weasley, of course, the blonde Seamus Finnegan and his new best friend; Dean Thomas.

A clatter to her right caught her attention. Harry had finished with his meal. Finally, she couldn't believe what a slow eater he was, if she had been that slow she was sure her parents…..Wait! Harry had promised to tell her about the Dursleys! She felt a little guilty about being so easily distracted but decided to ask him right away. Just as she turned, prepared to lay into him, Professor McGonagall walked down the Gryffindor table, handing little pieces of paper to the students. Curious, she decided to wait until the Professor reached her.

"These are your schedules, Miss Granger, Mr Potter. Your first class will be Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws and I expect you to be punctual." She handed Hermione and Harry their schedules and moved along. Hermione looked down and saw that they also had History of Magic, Charms and Double Potions that day. Harry peered over her shoulder.

"Well, want to get a move on for Transfiguration? We've still got to find the classroom first, remember?"

Hermione nodded and got up. She sometimes wondered if Harry could read minds. He somehow always suggested what she would have normally said or done. Maybe it was some kind of magical ability? Or a spell or a charm that that green eyed enigma had managed to master wandlessly? She wished she could go to the library. The list of unanswered questions grew with each passing moment. Sighing at having to wait an additional day before she could get to the library, Hermione reached out to grab her bag from the table only to find it float up to Harry who promptly slung it over his shoulder.

"Harry, as sweet as it is you offering to carry my bag, I'm perfectly capable of lugging around a small bag and have, in fact, done so quite well since I was a child. Now, if you don't mind." She gestured with her hand.

Harry didn't move, "Hermione, the number of books you carry! Here, you can have mine instead. Now, come on."

Hermione conceded the point but demanded her bag back anyway. Harry simply rolled his eyes as she happily slung it over her shoulder and marched off. As the two made their way to the classroom aide by the many portraits and the occasional suit of armour, they fell into a discussion about the best way to cast a simple Switching Spell and hardly realized where they were going. As a result, they were not a little surprised to see Professor McGonagall standing outside her classroom, deep in discussion with the diminutive Charms Professor. At the sound of the two's approach, however, the two quickly broke off and Professor Flitwick; the Charms Professor, hurried off.

Professor McGonagall looked up and was most unsurprised to see Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

"The class is not for another twenty minutes, you two," she said not unkindly.

Hermione spoke up, "We know, Professor. It's just we thought we had better come early since we weren't too sure about the way to the class and since we had a lot of help from the portraits, we managed not to get lost."

Harry simply nodded.

"Very well, perhaps you would like to take your seats until the rest of your class arrives?"

Hermione shared a quick look with Harry and agreed immediately. The duo walked in and occupied the first two seats, right in front of the class. Professor McGonagall didn't comment as she walked to her desk and began arranging some papers. A few minutes passed in silence as Hermione tried desperately to remain silent. Harry seemed to have no such compunctions and sat quietly, occasionally casting a knowing glance at Hermione. He knew she couldn't keep quiet and soon enough…

"Please, Professor, would you mind telling us if the Leviskoff movement is better than the Arbaedy for Switching Spells? It's just that Harry and I were trying to understand some of the concepts in some extra reading material we had and…"she trailed off as Professor McGonagall turned, her eyebrows raised.

The next ten minutes were spent happily in discussion of different wand movements and grips and Minerva was delighted that they were in Gryffindor. She could see that Harry's similarities to his father ended with his facial structure. James would never have bothered reading _Wendel Worcluck's Wand Wielding._ Oh, he certainly was smart, he and Lily were without a doubt two of the most gifted students she had taught but where James simply had a knack for Transfiguration despite being incurably lazy, Lily had been quietly intelligent and immensely passionate about her work.

The class was great. Professor McGonagall was stern and unyielding and gave them a hard time but she made sure their work was up to the mark. Hermione was pleased as punch when she and Harry had managed to transfigure their matchstick into a shiny silver pin. Professor McGonagall had awarded the two ten points each and they had spent the remaining lesson working on the essay they had to hand in as homework.

"A minute, Mr Potter, if you would," the class was finished and everyone was packing their things as they prepared to leave when Professor McGonagall's voice called out.

Harry stopped and nodded at Hermione who mouthed that she would wait outside. Professor McGonagall waited until everyone had left.

"Mr Potter, I can see that you enjoy your work, as little as one may glean from a single class, and I would invite you to come to me with anything you wish, be it academic in nature or otherwise. I will be available any time that I am not in a class."

Harry was unsure what to make of this and moreover, he didn't quite see what was in it for the Professor and if there was one thing he had learned through his ten years living under the Dursleys it was that there was always something someone wanted in return. He came to a decision.

"Thank you, Professor. It's very kind of you and I surely will," he favoured the Professor with a small smile and prepared to move as she spoke again.

"I can see you are uncertain, Mr Potter. Perhaps it would help if I told you I knew your parents."

"Yes," she smiled seeing the look on Harry's face, "Lily and James were two of my favourite students and I often visited when you were a few months old. Now, I think you should hurry along if you want to be in time for your next class."

Harry left to find Hermione waiting for him outside as promised and although Hermione was too polite to ask, he could see she was burning with curiosity. She was going to be disappointed, thought Harry.

Minerva McGonagall did not have another class for a while and as she eased herself into her favourite chair in the Professor's lounge, she smiled, happy that she had taken the first step to getting to know Harry better. The ball was in the other court now but she hoped she could become a part of her favourite green eyed, dark haired boy's life again, even if he had grown up some.

* * *

History of Magic was a huge let down, especially to Harry who had been eager to learn more about his new world, the world his parents had lived in. Seeing a ghost for a teacher had simply whetted his interest and Hermione couldn't help but be affected by Harry's mood. After the first ten minutes, however, Harry had slumped back into his seat, disappointed and Hermione had a glazed look in her eye as she took notes. The rest of their class, which consisted of Hufflepuffs, was fast asleep in fifteen. Harry flicked through his text hoping to find something about _wizards_ instead of bloodthirsty goblins but apart from a few coma-inducing chapters on the Statue of Secrecy, the book had very little to do with Wizarding history.

Unfortunately, he had been stuck with Ron who had arrived late and as the benches held three, Harry found himself unwillingly sandwiched between Seamus and Ron. Ron sat at the very edge of his seat, as far away from Harry as physically possible while Seamus drooled all over his parchment. When sleep finally overcame Ron, Harry heaved a sigh of relief and his eyes snapped to Neville who had let out a chuckle on taking in the scene. Neville hurriedly stopped when his eyes met Harrys though.

Charms was fun and once Harry had successfully cast the _Wingardium Leviosa _; the basic Levitation Charm, he proceeded to use his remaining time simply looking around as the class struggled with their work. Neville seemed to be having a little difficulty with his feather, it swayed like a drunk on its way up but at least he managed to get it to move. Ron was going red with a peculiar, constipated expression as he tried to get his feather to co-operate. His movements grew wilder and wilder with every attempt until he accidentally elbowed Lavender in the nose at which point Professor Flitwick went over, a reproachful look on his face as Lavender glared teary-eyed. Under the Professor's watchful eye, the red-head managed to float his feather up perfectly and seemed pretty excited until he realised he was one of the last to accomplish this.

Hermione, it seemed, had managed to execute her spell perfectly and was helping the Culpepper girl. Harry almost smiled when the brisk tones of the bushy haired witch floated to where he was seated, '-it's Levi_o_sa, not Levio_sa_. And it's more of a flick in the end; try not to curl your wand like that.'

Lunch was delicious as usual and some of their batch mates took the opportunity to discuss some of their classes. Not a lot seemed to be too excited about Double Potions, though and Harry didn't have long to wonder why.

Their Potions class was to be with the Slytherins. As they made their way down to the dungeons where the classroom was, Harry found Hermione trying to recall all she had read in _1001 Magical Herbs and Fungi_. She seemed decidedly nervous and although a certain amount of fretting was characteristic of Hermione, he couldn't help but call her on it.

"Oh, Harry! It's Professor Snape! Every older student I've spoken to has said he's really unfair and absolutely loathes incompetence. Besides, he's sure to quiz the class at random and I want to make sure I remember everything. If I did well enough, he might be better about it."

Harry considered all he had heard about the Potions professor. Granted most of the adjectives he had heard used were not, strictly speaking, entirely related to his teaching skills, Harry had heard enough to realize that if someone was not liked by the professor, there was little they could do to change the fact. He decided to keep quiet about it, though. Hermione still had hope and after all, he might be wrong.

The two found the Potions classroom at the end of a long corridor lit by flaming torches stuck into brackets in the stone wall. As they approached, Harry recognised the lone figure lounging about the doors to the classroom.

"Draco," he nodded politely. Malfoy gave a short nod to Hermione before turning his gaze to Harry.

"Potter," he said.

"Where's Crabbe and Goyle?" asked Hermione, peering around as if she expected them to suddenly appear from behind a tapestry, "aren't they usually with you?"

Draco's face gave a slight twitch of irritation but remained smooth otherwise.

"Yes, but I managed to give them the slip. Well, better than managed. The two are thick as troll thighs."

Hermione laughed at that but Harry eyed Draco curiously.

"Why do you hang around with them if you don't like them? Surely there are others in Slytherin?" he asked.

Draco sighed, "Not a lot when you think of it. Me and the two thickheads make three ourselves leaving Blaise Zabini and the girls. Blaise is smart enough but he's too wrapped up in studies to really pay any attention to mundane things like 'hanging around'. Don't even get me started on the girls. I mean, I know I should expect a fair amount of female attention, what with me being me and all, but Pansy makes me sick."

Harry laughed at the end and the mood suddenly lightened. Draco looked a little more comfortable and Hermione loosened up which was a surprise because she hadn't even realised she was tensed. Whatever the reason, the three were more than satisfied to spend the remaining time until class started chatting away. At least, Draco and Hermione chatted away while Harry contributed occasionally. Harry noticed that Draco seemed to have gotten over his aversion to Hermione. Or gotten better at hiding it.

As time passed, the rest of the students began gathering around the trio and soon there was a line of students waiting to get into the classroom. At the exact hour, the large door opened to the same sallow, greasy haired, hooked nose man dressed in black that was Professor Severus Snape.

Under his dark gaze, the students quickly settled into benches with the Gryffindors on one side and the Slytherins on the other. Hermione cast a quick glance around and noticed Draco grimacing as he sat with Crabbe. She turned to point it out to Harry and found herself face to face with Ron. She frowned slightly and scanned the class, looking for Harry and found him sitting a bench away with Neville. He was immersed in his Potions text and did not look up. She turned back feeling slightly disappointed.

As the class progressed Professor Snape quickly made his way to becoming one of her least favourite teachers with great aplomb, making it seem almost effortless. The potion he had set after trying to humiliate the class by asking them obscure facts about magical plants from the very end of _1001 Magical Herbs and Fungi _was to be done in pairs. As Harry had so unceremoniously dumped her, she was saddled with Ron. After a half hour of sweating profusely while trying to see through the dark blue smoke billowing from their cauldron, the only charitable thought Hermione had in her head was that at least it wasn't intentional. Although a rather nasty thought did float across her mind that doing _this _intentionally would also require significantly more brains than the flustered red- head possessed.

"Can't you do something?" asked Ron desperately as he fanned the smoke away from his face, Hermione glared.

"I did what I could! And considering this is all your doing, I'd have thought you should be able to fix it."

"Me? I'm not the insufferable know-it-all with all the right answers in class!" Ron snapped.

Hermione spluttered angrily, "You're insufferable! All this is your fault and you're sitting there insulting me! If you had just…"

"Oh shut up if you can't help! No wonder you don't have any friends except Potter! And even he dumped you!"

Hermione was nearly in tears by the time the Potions Professor swooped in on her desk. A disdainful glance, a sneer, a few well-chosen words and he passed, verifying that the potion was no threat to anyone. Hermione put her head on the table. This was so wrong! She wished she could correct it! And that absolute arse Harry! The smug little berk was sitting with a twitchy Neville and a perfect potion! She passed a hand over face and rubbed her eyes, wishing the class would just get over. It was nice with her eyes closed and she didn't have to see the mess on hand. Perhaps she would just sit like this until the end of class. She could always try again tomorrow, right? And this time she would be rather sit with a Slytherin than Ron, or even Harry for that matter!

At the end of the class as Harry stood up and bean clearing away her things, he turned to look at his only friend and found her missing. His eyes slid to Draco who shrugged and gestured at Ron. Harry went over to where Ron was stuffing his scales back in.

"Where's Hermione?" he asked a little coldly.

Ron started and his scales crashed to the floor. Glaring at Harry as he bent down to retrieve them, he said brusquely, "Dunno. She ran out soon as class was over."

Harry ignored the red head's mutters of how some people would have helped pick up the scales set, how it would have been the decent thing to do and slipped ahead of the group of Slytherin girls on their way out.

Potions was the last class of the day and Harry gave up trying to find Hermione after the Library and the common room. He knew it didn't make sense but figured he would see her at dinner.

* * *

Dinner that night, Harry sat a little by himself. The other Gryffindors had easily come to the conclusion that Harry was better off on his own although they darted glances at him throughout. He _was_ after all, the Boy Who Lived and a most intriguing one. As he ate, Harry savoured the food. After ten years of stale bread, cheese and watery soup, he took the time to enjoy every meal. He briefly wondered where Hermione was when he came down to the Great Hall when Draco brushed past him on the way to the Slytherin table. A note, folded twice dropped into his lap and Harry read the contents grimly.

'Granger's been crying in the bathroom. Parkinson's rather loud.'

Harry didn't know what to do. He certainly hadn't a clue what could upset his friend enough to cry for so long. He decided that if she didn't show up for dinner, he'd go find her. As he picked up his fork once more there was a loud BANG!

The doors to the Great Hall burst open and Professor Quirrell came running in. The man was absolutely terrified and his pale face was drenched in sweat. Gasps shook him as he ran to the Head table where Dumbledore and the others were already on their feet.

"TROLL! Troll in the dungeons! Thought you'd want to know!"

Quirrell collapsed and hell broke loose.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

An eye snapped opened in the middle of the night, pupil dilated as it darted around the dark and silent room. Seeing nothing, the eye slowly closed as the owner's heart settled back into its usual rhythm. A soft sigh escaped numb lips that had been bitten hard in an effort to refrain from crying out. A hand scrabbled around on the small bedside table before it closed around the cold frames of round, wire rimmed glasses and a leg swung out of the sweat soaked sheets. Harry Potter poured himself a glass of water, half frozen from lying on the window sill the entire night as he opened the window letting the brisk night air wash over his face, welcoming the slight sting. A sudden whoosh and darting of shadows later a jet black owl with glowing green eyes was perched on his shoulder, rubbing its neck against a lean and high cheek.

"Hedwig," Harry said softly as he stroked his owl's incredibly soft head, "how goes the hunt?"

Hedwig gave a very soft hoot and transferred herself to the improvised perch Harry had fixed for her next to the window. Owl and boy stared out at the clear skies with the stars shining down on them until the first hints of pink gold flashed across the sky. A sharp knock on the door broke the spell and Harry stretched, trying to ease the stiffness in his neck; a result of standing immobile in the cold for so long. Hedwig gave a sleepy little hoot before tucking her head under her wing. Harry looked at her fondly for a few moments before preparing for yet another day at the Dursleys.

Breakfast and chores were taken of by eleven and Aunt Petunia had popped over to the new neighbours' across the street for an afternoon of pleasant bridge. Dudley had already met with some friends and had disappeared early on. Harry settled into a chair in the kitchen as he looked out into the garden again. As usual, the memories began trickling, gradually building up in intensity until the dam broke and his mind was flooded.

_The Headmaster of his school, Albus Dumbledore assuring him the Dursleys had gotten over the little episode involving Uncle Vernon being nearly beaten to death by the battered chair in the garage. Harry had only agreed as the Leaky Cauldron was a long way off from his single friend and had found that he hadn't regretted it one bit. Interesting memories, hazy memories, chilling memories, insignificant memories, important memories, they all flowed through his mind as he meditated, trying to order his mind using the lousy tips sketchily inscribed in the back of an old and tattered book on Occlumency he had found on top of his presents pile on Christmas in Hogwarts._

He flinched as memories of the basilisk, the dementors, Wormtail, Cedric, the ritual, _him, _flashed by and his mind quickly supplied soothing ones to assuage the rawness left in the wake. He remembered a lazy summer evening under the large oak in front of the lake, his _Firebolt_ by his side and Hedwig on his stomach, the endless hours he had spent in the library with Hermione, researching obscure spells and tricky charms, anything to give him an edge over the other competitors of the Tri-Wizard Cup. The times he had spent in Professor McGonagall's chambers, alone at first, accompanied by Hermione once the Professor had gotten to know and like her.

He sat for a moment, eyes half closed as a stray beam of sunlight warmed his cheek. He popped his lips as he breathed out. He moved around the kitchen, preparing lunch for the Dursleys before snagging a couple of books on his way out. The door closed behind him and a small click indicated that the lock was in place as he made his way to the park where he would meet Hermione everyday whenever the two were home during the Summer holidays. He missed her now, though. She had been staying at the Headquarters of the Order since they had arrived. Now that Voldemort was back, the Order had come to the decision that Hermione and her family, being as close to Harry as they were, would need to go into hiding. Of course the usual course was to set up wards and throw up and all kinds of enchantments and magical snares around the house but in the case of the Grangers it would have been of little use seeing as they would have been unable to defend themselves while the wards were attacked and brought down. Hermione, formidable though she may be with the wand, agreed quickly to the Order's offer for her parents' sake although she was torn about leaving Harry alone with the Dursleys, especially now.

As he passed various houses, he was greeted by loud calls and excitedly grinning children. Since he had taken to sitting so close to the park, Dudley and his gang refused to have anything to do with it. He gave a small smile and a little wave as he walked on. Reaching the spot under the tree, Harry slumped against the trunk and crossed his legs, head already buried in his book.

How long he sat there, green eyes flitting across the page, he didn't know but quite suddenly it was dark. The last sounds of children playing faded and the silence startled Harry who looked up quickly, hand reaching for his wand which he wore on a specially crafted holster on his left forearm; a gift from Professor McGonagall last Christmas. Relaxing, he raked a hand through his scruffy hair as he got to his feet, shifting the books to his left hand. He began walking back to Number 4 enjoying the evening breeze.

The further darkening of the skies made Harry realise he was going to be late, Hedwig would normally be back from Hermione in a little while and Harry already didn't want her coming to find him when he was in the middle of the street and he knew she was impatient enough for it to be a real threat. He hurried along, slipping into a side alley to cut across some yards and was making his way rapidly through a narrow, isolated alley with a tall hedge on one side and the side of a house on the other when he saw Dudley. His cousin was leaning against the wall, pulling on a cigarette, smoke curling around him. As Harry drew closer, Dudley looked up and his eyes widened. Harry simply waited for the large boy to move since the alley was too small for him to push past without unnecessary contact. Dudley's eyes narrowed.

"Don't tell mum," he said, "it isn…."

"It isn't any of my concern, Dudley. Now, if you would just step aside," cut in Harry coolly as he made to brush past but Dudley blocked him.

"That was too quick, you're just going to run back and tell Mum, I know you!"

Harry sighed, exasperated, "Look Dudley, I'm expecting a letter and I'm going to have to ask you to move. I won't be telling Aunt Petunia anything. Like I said, it isn't any of my business."

Dudley glared at him suspiciously before stepping a little to the side. The minute Harry passed, however, Dudley followed. Hearing the footsteps behind him made Harry pause and look back, eyebrow raised.

"I'm coming with you, just to be sure. Don't trust you s'matter of fact."

Harry shook his head slightly before a gleam came into his eyes. Dudley wanted to follow him, did he? Well, considering that he was planning to cut across a lot of gardens and the neighbours were always angry when someone jumped their fences, well, Dudley brought it onto himself.

Turning back without a word, Harry was about to take a step when the temperature on this fine summer evening plummeted. The drop was so severe that frost began to crackle on his glasses. The cold was almost unbearable as it seeped into his bones in an all too familiar manner and suddenly Harry knew what was coming. He wheeled around, wand in hand as he squinted at the dark skies, trying to make out motion or catch a glimpse of a tattered black cloak flapping about in the wind. Dudley squeaked and his eyes widened in fear as he saw what he thought was Harry's wand pointed at him. The slow feeling of cold dread and fear inching its way towards his heart and the murderous expression on Harry's face was enough to convince him that he shouldn't have pushed his cousin even that tiny amount he had. Before the freak could perpetuate anything worse, Dudley cowered at Harry's feet, now blabbering through the fear and the feeling of happiness being sucked out of him. He could almost feel his happy thoughts, feelings and memories being pulledd out of his mind and this terrified him more than ever as he began to rock violently on the ground, pleading, begging for it to stop. But Harry paid his large cousin no mind.

Two tall, cloaked figures floated down at the end of the narrow alley, their breath rattling as they floated eerily toward the fallen boy and the other, their target. Harry stood his ground, jaw clenched, his eyes chips of green ice as he watched the dementors close in on them. He knew casting the patronus was a risk. The dementors would be repelled but the Ministry would be swooping down on him within moments. He was not so naïve as to believe that the Ministry or rather the Minister did not have a hankering for him being rendered impotent. Expulsion for underage magic and a snap of the wand would go a long way in doing just that. Another thought that struck him was that perhaps the dementors were not on a random date looking for a good place to eat. They might have been sent in order to scare him into using magic, in which case they would not harm him or his cousin. And so Harry waited.

It seemed an eternity as the dementors glided forward and Harry had a hard time keeping his hand from shaking with each passing second. His happy thought, his link of power to the charm, however, grew stronger for he could hear his parents again. For Harry, that was enough and that was what made him stronger in the face of a dementor. It was not truly happy and so the dementors could not touch it but it was something Harry cherished and he had long since realised that magic was not as structured as his teachers made it out to be. If the intentions of the dementors was to scare him into casting, Harry figured they were doing a pretty god job for they were close enough for him to be able to discern a rotting, clamy hand emerge from under the cloak of one and reach for Dudley. Dudley gasped and shook, petrified as the being of despair was within touching distance and still Harry waited, now trembling himself and unsure of just how much longer he could hold off until a dementor lunged and latched onto Dudley's face whose desperate scream almost paralysed Harry.

"Expecto Patronum" he whispered, stumbling back. A thin mist shot out of the end of his wand and pushed the dementor on Dudley a few feet before fading out. "Expecto Patronum!" he tried again and this time the other dementor simply brushed it aside, all the while Dudley's screams reverberating in the alley. All of a sudden, a faint voice spoke in his head.

"I'll hold him off!"

And Harry straightened, a fierce pounding in his head as cold fury filled him. Fury that his only memories of his parents were so vile, fury that he had let himself be brought to this simply because he feared an underage magic warning and fury that the dementors dared to threaten him.

"Expecto Patronum" ,a voice quiet as the wind but bearing more venom than the residents of Privet Drive would ever care to hear in their entire life whispered.

A brilliant white light exploded, soaking the entire alley in an unearthly glow as a silvery stag clattered into being. Waves of white light pulsed in waves from the stag as silver flames licked at its mouth. Snorting, it lowered its great antlered head and charged without warning at the two dementors that glided back quickly. The stag reached the closest one and with a disdainful toss of its head, sent it flying into the night sky with a terrible, keening noise. The second one tried to escape but the stag was too fast and antlers gored the fleeing cloak in the back, erupting through the front. The dementor keened horribly, a black sound before it slowly disintegrated, finally vanishing in a puff of smoke. The stag then reared up to turn in the narrow space as it clattered back to where Harry was waiting, ignoring the sobbing boy at his feet.

"Prongs" he said quietly as the stag breathed on the top of his head before fading away and leaving the previously narrow alley suddenly very large and empty. Harry tried to get the large boy to stop crying and get up but Dudley was having none of it. Every attempt made him cry that much harder until Harry finally gave up. Just as he raised his wand again to stun the idiot and levitate him back to the house, a non-descript brown spotted owl flew straight at him and pecked him on the side of his head, hard.

"Ow!" muttered Harry, rubbing his temple as the brown owl morphed before his eyes into a jet black. What scared him though were the glowing eyes that glared him just as Mrs Figg came running to him, hair flying, a batty old dressing gown flapping in the breeze.

* * *

Confined to the house after the attack by the dementors on Dumbledore's instructions as he sorted out the mess at the Ministry, Harry had read Hermione's letter twice, smiling slightly at her obvious annoyance at Hedwig's antics. Although Dumbledore had apparently forbidden her or anyone else from writing to Harry for fear of the letter being intercepted and sensitive information being compromised, Hermione had agreed that Hedwig's inherent paranoia that rivalled Moody's own was more than what anyone would expect and account for and Harry had been forced to agree. He had seen the damn owl change her appearance thrice in a matter of a few hundred feet when he had placed a tracking and supersensory charm on her out of curiosity one day. Reading from Hermione's letter, Hedwig had apparently taken to swooping around Headquarters as a great barn owl lately, scaring people left right, centre and sneaking up on Hermione in her usual form while she waited for Hermione to finish her letter. Also, she had developed a rather disturbing hobby of covering Ron with dozens of dead spiders as he slept. Hermione had now awoken to hysterical high pitched screams three mornings in a row. She was begging Harry to tell Hedwig to stop and Harry, while not particularly keen on telling his beloved owl _anything_ had a plan to make it all stop. Thanks to Hermione's little inclusion at the end.

* * *

Hermione had been cooped up at Headquarters for two weeks and she already felt it two weeks too many. Admittedly Fred and George were fun and the Library was to die for but she loathed having to rub shoulders with the younger Weasleys; namely Ron and Ginny along with Molly and Percy. Add to that Professor Snape's constant presence irked her. She had no idea why Harry was so tolerant of him, especially when he went out of his way to make Harry's life hell but she was thoroughly annoyed with the unprofessional conduct exhibited by the Potions Master. As a result she confined herself to her room, the Library or her parent's room whenever they were free, generally clutching a stack of books. She desperately wished Harry were here. Somehow it didn't feel right leaving Harry cooped up with those horrible relatives of his, isolated from the magical world and all his friends, well his _friend_ for Harry had never really bothered to maintain friendly relations with anyone else. Oh, he was perfectly charming and had a quick smile for the majority of the student population and the Professors, with the obvious exception of Snape, positively _adored _him but he that was all there was to it, charm, a facile smile and a few warm words in that quiet, unassuming manner of his.

"Oi, Mum's been looking for you. She says to get into the kitchen, there's a meeting on," Ron poked his head through the library door. Hermione gave a curt nod," I'll be there soon as I put away these books."

Hermione sighed. No doubt this was going to be about Harry. Now that everyone knew he had fought off one dementor and vaporized another alone when an Order member was supposed to be on guard, there were debates almost twice a day regarding the best course of action. Should they bring him to Headquarters? Wasn't it safer at the Dursleys, what with the wards and all? Should they find out what he wanted? It went on. Unfortunately for Harry, she was one of the few that knew him well enough to know what he might want and she was also one of the few whom no one ever took seriously. 'She's only fifteen after all.'

Slamming her books shut, she stalked to the door, determined to shout if she had to in order to be heard and tell them once and for all that if they didn't take steps to remove Harry from the Dursleys, she would. The kitchen was already full when she walked in and she had to wait as one of the twins pushed Tonks roughly to the side in order to make space for her. Tonks casually cast a stinging hex on the offending twin's bum. Taking her seat, she noted that Sirius Black was at the head while Molly Weasley was at the other end and by the looks of it, sparks had already flown.

"So," Sirius began, "I believe everyone knows why we are here. The situation with Harry is increasing in its urgency and we still haven't come to an agreeable solution! This is primarily because _some _members," here he paused and gave a very pointed glance to Mrs Weasley," are reluctant to act against the express wishes of Albus bloody Dumbledore as opposed to doing what's right. I hope yo…"

"Precisely _what_ are you implying, Sirius?" Mrs Weasley's voice snapped like a whip," Surely even you can't be as dense as to believe you know better than the Headmaster? After all these years of leading the Order, he has never once…"

"I'll have you know, woman that I'm his Godfather and any decision with regards to Harry's personal life is to be ultimately mine and I have just about had enough of people trying to convince me otherwise! You of all people should recognize it for the cruelty it is to leave him at those pathetic excuses for relatives!"

"I think Sirius is right! Harry needs us and Headquarters is safe as can be! For Heaven's sake, we're here _because _it's as safe as it is! Not to mention Harry needs his friends!" Hermione managed to get in before she was interrupted by Lupin.

"I think Harry is old enough to understand that sacrifices must be made to ensure his safety! The boy has survived situations that no normal witch or wizard could have ever dreamed of getting themselves into, let alone surviving. A little loneliness seems quite tame in comparison," said Lupin firmly.

"All this is a load of dragon dung and Merlin would be the first to admit it's more cockeyed than his bloody…"

"TONKS! There are children present!"

Tonks simply morphed her vocal chords into something more powerful.

"…ask him what he bloody wants! I can't see why you lot won't just ask! I mean it isn't like you'll be disturbing him, like we're going to walk in on him boinking some nymph! He's _right there!_ And if he wants out, hell, I'll strap him to my legs and cover him under my damn skirt if I have to, god knows he's attractive enough…"

"TONKS, WILL YOU STOP?!"

Mundungus Fletcher choked into his Firewhiskey as he saw Tonks make a rather rude gesture and coughed up the smoky liquid right into Rons face who gave an angry exclamation as the potent alcohol caused his nose to sting.

Mrs Weasley and Sirius had now taken to shouting at each other from across the table paying no heed to anyone else and Mr Weasley was trying to keep the wins from vanishing Felicity's robes again.

BANG!

All eyes swivelled to where Mad-Eye Moody sat, his magical eye whizzing around, looking at each of them in turn while the other glared at them.

"Get a grip on yourselves! Dumber than a bunch of trolls and louder than banshees you lot! Dumbledore's given his orders! Now seeing as he's the head of this little Order we have going here, we're supposed to be following them. But if you think you'd make a better leader than 'Albus bloody Dumbledore', WELL GO RIGHT AHEAD!"

Many in the room flinched as the last words were roared by the aged and heavily scarred ex-Auror with the magical eye and wooden stump for a leg though no one made a sound. Moody eyed them grimly.

"Just as I thought. Now, I was led to believe there was some actual business to take care of?"

Lupin, Sirius and the Weasleys looked a little guilty at that and made to shoo Hermione, Ron and Ginny out when Hermione spoke out.

"Professor Moody, I really think you should consider Harry's situation. He's not going to like this."

Moody's eyes flicked to her, both of them.

"I appreciate it Miss Granger, but Potter's hearing isn't for another week. We'll extract him when we need to and not before" he said gruffly and suddenly Hermione was glad about what she had done.

"Do tell when that is, Mad Eye. I must confess I find myself immensely curious."

The entire room froze as a lean boy of average height, tousled black hair and a peculiar scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead peered at Mad Eye through cool green eyes behind a pair of old wire rimmed round glasses. Harry leaned casually against the doorway with Hedwig in her true form perched on his shoulder and a wand held loosely in his hand.


End file.
